


The Fourth Wall Isn't A Real Wall At All

by notallbees



Series: Fanception: We need to go deeper [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Howard Stark - Homewrecker, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Roleplay, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 74,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a fanartist with an unhealthy lack of self-worth, who copes with his ME by burying himself in fandom. James Barnes is a fanficcer who has no idea what he’s doing with his life. Both obsessed with Captain America fandom, Steve claims Bucky’s big bang story to illustrate, and just like their fictional counterparts, they fall in love. But not before they have a lot of dumb IM conversations, some awkward phonesex, and piss off most of their RL friends. At least they'll get a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm a big deal on the internet

**Author's Note:**

> This story was just supposed to be just Steve and Bucky. I hoped to suspend the realm of disbelief enough to imagine that they could be fictional characters, and also real people obsessed with those fictional characters who were uncannily like themselves. But then, I couldn’t resist dragging in all these other lovely characters too, so I suggest you lie back and let the fourth wall bend into unimaginable shapes around you :D It’ll hardly be the weirdest thing that’s happened in the Marvel universe.
> 
> There's some minor Bucky/Natasha, past Steve/Peggy and some (very) minor Steve/Howard. Also some (again, minor) Steve/OMC and Bucky/OMC. Mostly it's just Steve and Bucky obsessing over each other.
> 
> My thanks go as ever to [crooked](http://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked) and [nekare](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nekare) for their cheerleading and handholding, and to every other fool who told me this was a good idea! Also, I’ve written/am writing all of Bucky’s fics and you can find links to them in the notes at the end :D (they’re also listed in the same series for convenience!) 
> 
> [There's lots of IMs, emails and tumblr posts in this story but I've formatted them simply instead of using images in case people want to d/l and read, as I know the pictures mess up on some e-readers :) So in case you wonder why it looks shit, that's why!]
> 
> OH also in case anyone doesn't know - Steve suffers from ME aka Chronic Fatigue Syndrome :)

Steve Rogers sits with his laptop on his knees, eating Cheetos and refreshing the same dreamwidth post every five seconds. He knows it isn’t quite twelve, and the post isn’t due to go live until twelve, but he’s desperate to get his fingers on one story in particular. He’s got every intention of committing bribery, theft or murder to get the claim he wants, but hopefully it won’t come to that. He’s already skipping a tutoring session to ensure he gets this, which is dumb as shit because he’s already missed enough classes this semester and he has a butt-ton of work to get done, but. But. 

He refreshes the post, sighs, and skims down to read summary #26 again. 

> _In a post nuclear winter, super soldier Steve Rogers is woken from stasis to discover that the world he went to sleep for is long dissolved, and the enclave of survivors he was tasked with protecting are in great danger. A strange menace is haunting the wastes and threatening the survival of the remaining Enclaves; a figure known only as the Winter Soldier has been sabotaging Enclaves and laying waste to what remains of humanity. Steve has to stop him, before there’s nothing left, but it’s not so easy when he comes face to face with the past he left hundreds of years behind him._

Steve hits refresh once more, and the comments are open. He copies and pastes faster than he has in his entire life, and hits send. 

\--

James Barnes is not supposed to have his phone on him at work. In fact, Natasha would very likely stab him with a milk frother if she saw, but this is an emergency. Life or death. The big bang claims are finally going live, and he’s more nervous than he can remember being in a long time. 

Thing is, Bucky doesn't write, not really. He writes a lot of meta, which is really the only thing anyone knows him for in fandom, and occasionally he posts drabbles if a prompt really grabs him by the balls, but this is the first time he's written anything longer than a couple of thousand words and he's terrified. 

He eases his phone out of his pocket while there's nobody waiting, and refreshes the dreamwidth post. He almost has a heart attack when he sees that the first commenter has listed his story as their second choice. Then he scrolls down and he has to lean against the counter for support, because the second comment has his story listed as first choice, and the artist is _pictureofhealth_ , as in his favourite fanartist of all time. 

Bucky feels like he might need to sit down. 

"James, everything okay?"

Natasha and Brock are both watching him, with varying degrees of concern and impatience. He nods, then quickly shakes his head. "I feel kinda dizzy, can I take five?"

Natasha narrows her eyes. "Did you eat today?" He nods. "Do you have a fever?" He shakes his head. "Okay, take five in the back."

Bucky runs. He's already given his details to the mods, and sure enough by the time he gets into the staff room and checks his phone again, he has an email waiting.

> To: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: big bang claim!  
>  \--  
>  Hey!  
>  the big bang mods gave me your address, I'm the one who claimed your story :)  
>  I cannot wait to read it! do you use AIM? could we maybe chat later? I'm ‘pictureofhealth’ (duh) 
> 
> talk soon! :D

Bucky clutches the phone to his chest and makes an undignified noise, which he hopes Natasha and Brock don't notice. He can’t actually believe this is happening. He wishes he had somebody to tell, and he quickly updates his tumblr.

>   
> **ohmysergeant** posted _no title_
> 
> OH MY GOD @pictureofhealth claimed my big bang story!! fffFFF BEST EVER
> 
> #now i can die happy #seriously how are you real #i cant’ braeth #wtf wtf wtf #my life is over #and also just beginning #big bang apparently #the nuclear winter soldier #tumblring commandos  
> 

This done, he casts a wary glance at the door to make sure he’s not about to be interrupted, before shooting _pictureofhealth_ a quick email.

> To: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  From: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]
> 
> RE: Subject: big bang claim!  
>  \--  
>  WHAT THE FUCK GET OUTTA HERE
> 
> dude thank you SO MUCH for claiming my story! you are LITERALLY my favorite!! 
> 
> i’ll be home from work in like four hours if we can talk then?? 8D  
>  (and i’m ‘ohmysergeant’ ALSO DUH)

“James!” Nat shouts through the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he calls back, and shoves his phone in his bag. He tries to suppress his dorky grin, and fails. “I’m great!”

\--

_you are now connected to **pictureofhealth**_

**ohmysergeant**  
holy shit hi

 **pictureofhealth**  
hi there sergeant : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
dude, at the risk of sounding dumb, it's really cool to talk to you at last!

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha! no way son, I nearly peed myself when I saw who wrote the fic!  
I read like all your meta, I’m so stoked you’re writing more fic

 **ohmysergeant**  
jeez what a pair of idiots  
k lets do this right  
asl? ;)

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha oldschool!  
well no offence, nothing personal, but early twenties/UTC-5 is as specific as I wanna get, but I don't mind confirming that I'm male

 **ohmysergeant**  
sweet! fanboys unite!!

 **pictureofhealth**  
ikr if this wasn't fandom there'd be almost a 50/50 chance but in this world? we are unicorns my friend

 **ohmysergeant**  
running free

 **pictureofhealth**  
in a herd of two  
okay, so uh. what do I call you?

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay don't laugh  
I go by Bucky

 **pictureofhealth**  
that's adorable!  
I'm Steve hahaha kill me

 **ohmysergeant**  
wow, way to go guys, we are not only desperate, narcissistic jerks  
we're also soulmates

 **pictureofhealth**  
hey! don't call your soulmate a jerk!

 **ohmysergeant**  
sorry babe

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay so Bucky  
tell me more about this story please  
I have been thinking about it nonstop for 3 days since the claims list went up  
I have a whole bunch of sketches already!

 **ohmysergeant**  
holy shit!!  
can I see??

 **pictureofhealth**  
2 secs gotta scan. they're not finished or anything I just got distracted when I was working earlier

 **ohmysergeant**  
lol where else d'you think I found the time to write 40,000 words of fic?  
wish I could write like that when it comes to my essays

 **pictureofhealth**  
dude if I could hand in fanart for my deadlines I wouldn't have to draw again for like four months  
except more steve/bucky  
what a shame

 **ohmysergeant**  
do it anyway  
everyone loves dicks

 **pictureofhealth**  
ikr  
...  
seriously!! the fic??

 **ohmysergeant**  
lol oops  
okay  
let me email you the whole thing  
*shifty eyes*

 **pictureofhealth**  
shh I know it's gonna be great

 **ohmysergeant**  
it's not done yet but there are notes in the missing scenes so you'll get the gist  
HOLY SHIT JUST GOT YR EMAIL  
THESE. ARE AMAZING.

 **pictureofhealth**  
welllll they're just rough  
obvs I want you to feed in with your ideas and stuff,  
tell me what it should all look like  
and reading the story will definitely give me some different ideas about them

 **ohmysergeant**  
man this is x100000 times better than anything I could've imagined for this world

 **pictureofhealth**  
d'aww you're the sweetest :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
no dude  
just honest

 **pictureofhealth**  
k i’m gonna make popcorn then settle down to read this baby

 **ohmysergeant**  
YUS  
I’ll go do my homework I GUESS

 **pictureofhealth**  
good luck : >

\--

Bucky sits at the rickety dining table and spreads his books out, making a conveniently-located space for his cup of coffee. He’s halfway through his reading when the front door opens and Clint tumbles in, with Kate riding piggyback. 

“Hey,” he calls out, signing to them at the same time. Clint only wears his hearing aids half the time, and Bucky’s become practically fluent in ASL over the two years they’ve been living together. Sometimes at work or college he finds himself gesturing as he talks, especially if he’s nervous, but he’s always been expressive with his hands so there’s not much he can do. He figures there are worse habits to have. 

“Jim!” Clint shouts, dumping Kate on the couch. “Jim Jim Jimmy Jimmy Jim!” He stalks over and grabs Bucky in a headlock, knuckling at his hair.

“Augh,” Bucky complains, trying to struggle free. “Kate, what is this? Are you guys high?”

“Would that make it better?” she asks with a pointed look, before throwing off her backpack and walking into the kitchen. “I’m making coffee! Who wants some?”

“God, yes,” Bucky moans as Clint releases him, and he drops face first onto the table and stays there. “I hate homework.”

“Maybe you should spend less time writing porn about fictional dudes,” Clint chirps as he crosses to the kitchen to give Kate a hand. 

“I don’t even write porn,” Bucky complains. 

“Maybe you should start!” Kate yells, and Bucky sighs. She’s probably right. He sits up and drags his laptop over. Tumblr is still open in the browser when he flips the screen up, and he finds himself clicking over to _pictureofhealth’s_ \- Steve’s - art tag without really thinking about it. He scrolls through, not that there’s anything he hasn’t seen a hundred times before, lingering over his favorites. He’s still scrolling with a dopey look on his face when Kate slams a cup of coffee down a few minutes later, startling him. He hits minimize, but apparently not fast enough.

“Fuck me,” she says, leaning over his shoulder. Her ponytail brushes his arm. “Was that Captain America rimming someone?”

Bucky feels his face heat up. “Yeah.”

“Let me see!” With a sigh, Bucky resigns himself to his fate and opens up the window again. “Holy shit, Cap is _on it_.”

“God, Barnes, do you have to watch porn in front of my girlfriend?” Clint whines from across the room. He crashes onto the couch with a groan. “You’ll get her all fired up and I’m _tired_.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, and slams the laptop closed. “You two can deal with this between you, I’m going to take a nap.”

Clint looks up and raises an eyebrow. “With your laptop?”

“Yes.”

“Enjoy.”

\--

_**ohmysergeant** is now online_

**ohmysergeant**  
hey  
please be free  
my housemate is about to have some really loud sex and my headphones are broken and I need a distraction

 **pictureofhealth**  
omg  
where have you been  
i’m having a breakdown here

 **ohmysergeant**  
!!  
what’s up??

 **pictureofhealth**  
this story is so sad ;__;

 **ohmysergeant**  
LOL what did you expect

 **pictureofhealth**  
I knowwww I’m so stupid

 **ohmysergeant**  
false  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha but actually true  
i’m like, art smart, not booksmart

 **ohmysergeant**  
I don’t think they’re as different as you think :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
yeahhhh well  
thanks to you I’m taking a break to lie around groaning in a pile of blankets

 **ohmysergeant**  
ORLY

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
get your mind out of the gutter

 **ohmysergeant**  
it’s all i’ve ever known

 **pictureofhealth**  
you are so dramatic

 **ohmysergeant**  
guilty

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay but seriously I need a pick me up now  
I am so sad  
I have never been this sad

 **ohmysergeant**  
excuse me  
WHO is dramatic?

 **pictureofhealth**  
shut it

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay okay  
Steve and Bucky at a funfair  
take a ride on the love boat

 **pictureofhealth**  
shut the fuck up  
omfg

 **ohmysergeant**  
and it starts out as a JOKE  
OF COURSE

 **pictureofhealth**  
and they get dirty looks from the guy running the ride

 **ohmysergeant**  
RIGHT  
but Bucky talks their way on anyway

 **pictureofhealth**  
i hear that guy’s all mouth

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha :p  
and steve complains bitterly about being dragged on this dumb ride  
thinks bucky’s just rubbing it in because steve can’t get a date

 **pictureofhealth**  
maybe he already bought a ticket for the ride but their dates ditched them

 **ohmysergeant**  
but then Bucky gets what he wanted all along  
Steve alone in the dark

 **pictureofhealth**  
*flails*

 **ohmysergeant**  
and if they come out looking a little more rumpled than they went in, hey  
who’s checking

 **pictureofhealth**  
maybe the grumpy guy running the ride?

 **ohmysergeant**  
nah the guy’s bent as a paperclip  
he’s rooting for them

 **pictureofhealth**  
ahhh!  
bucky that’s too fucking adorable  >:3

 **ohmysergeant**  
:D feel better now?

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah :3  
although now I really wanna draw it

 **ohmysergeant**  
DO IT

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay, maybe tomorrow :p  
right now i gotta get some sleep or I won’t get any work done tomorrow 

**ohmysergeant**  
no worries dude, get some rest!  
I wish you sweet loveboat dreams

 **pictureofhealth**  
nnghhnrngh oh my god

 **ohmysergeant**  
night :p

\--

Steve forces himself to go to bed without finishing Bucky’s fic, much as he wants to just gorge himself on the whole thing in one go. Trouble is, he’s already spent most of the day staring at a screen, and he needs to give his eyes a rest. 

He wakes up early the next day and gets his things together for college, surprising Sam with a cup of coffee when he arrives at eight thirty. 

“What’s happened?” Sam asks when he lets himself in and almost jumps right out of his skin at the sight of Steve standing there. Upright. Before ten AM. He looks around suspiciously. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Steve grins and hands over the coffee. “Because I’m up.”

“No shit.” Sam glares at him over the rim of the coffee cup. “Seriously, did you get replaced by aliens?"

“Nope.”

“Aliens _would_ say that,” Sam mutters, trudging past him to the kitchenette with the bag of groceries. “You still eat breakfast, not-Steve?”

“I’ll make it!” he yells, hurrying into the kitchen. “Go on, sit. You want some eggs?”

Sam shakes his head slowly as he stands back from the fridge. “Shit, dude, I haven’t seen you look this excited about breakfast in months. You’re not doing anything I should know about, are you?”

“Nah,” Steve says, tossing a careless grin over his shoulder, before he dumps out the rest of the contents of the grocery bags and cracks a couple of eggs into a cup. He’s not actually a great cook, but he hasn’t felt like cooking in a long time and, even though it’s his job, he still gets sick of relying on Sam to do things for him. 

“I’ll just leave you to it then,” Sam says, taking a wary step backwards. “Mind if I tackle the bathroom?”

Steve shrugs. “Be my guest.” Okay, he hates Sam doing things for him, but he’s welcome to the cleaning. Steve _hates_ cleaning. It only takes him ten minutes to make himself some slightly overdone scrambled eggs, and he sits crosslegged on his bed to eat them while he checks his emails. There’s one from Bucky, and he opens it up totally unprepared for what awaits him.

> _Honestly, it’s a good job Bucky’s here to keep Steve company. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a funfair at all: it would just be a fair. It’s the first time Steve’s ever gotten a date for himself, and Bucky didn’t intend to let him screw it up, but it was Steve who asked, shyly, if maybe Bucky could come along too and escort his date’s best friend._
> 
> _“Maxine says she’s a real peach, Buck,” Steve had said, so earnest. “You’ll like her I’m sure.”_
> 
> _It didn’t matter in any case; peach or not, Bucky would be a gentleman, but really he wasn’t interested in any dame. He just wanted to make sure Steve had a good time._

“Oh my god!” Steve shouts, throwing the plate down and clutching at his arms. “Oh my _god_.”

Sam skids out of the bathroom, one rubber glove on and a panicked look in his eyes. “What? What happened?”

Steve looks over at him guiltily. “Uh, nothing. Sorry. I just got a really nice email, that’s all.”

“An email,” Sam says, staring at him. 

“Uh, yes.”

Shaking his head, Sam disappears back into the bathroom, and Steve reads on. The fic is lovely: just how Bucky described it to him last night but even _better_ , because he’s embellished all the little quirks and details of their character, their clothes, the _kiss_ in the dark. Steve sighs happily and sprawls back onto his bed so he can stare up at the ceiling. He still has an hour before he needs to leave for class, and he kind of feels like getting out of his apartment for once.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Another email?” Sam shouts, voice echoing off the tiles.

Steve laughs and gets to his feet. “Shut up. Wanna go grab a drink?”

“As long as you mean caffeinated and not alcoholic,” Sam says, stepping out of the bathroom and tossing the rubber gloves into the sink behind him. He flashes Steve a genuine smile, then glances down at his stained pyjama pants. “You might wanna-”

Steve nods. “Right. Two minutes.”

Over coffee, he talks to Sam about the story and about Bucky, because he has to talk to _somebody_ about it, but he keeps it vague. Even though he can talk to Sam about anything, he’s still never told anybody in real life about fandom, and he’s not quite ready to start just yet. Instead, he just says that he has a new project, some illustration work for a new client that he’s really excited about, and that the writer is a really sweet guy named Bucky. Sam asks questions and smiles encouragingly and teases just the right amount, and Steve is so, _so_ fucking grateful for the millionth time that Sam was assigned to him in sophomore year. 

“Hey, Sam?” he says, pausing for a moment in his praise. Sam looks up from his notebook, where he’s been absently doodling while he listens and nods through the rather one-sided conversation.

“Mm?”

“Thanks. I know I complain all the fucking time but - I seriously couldn’t do this without you. So, thank you.”

Sam grins and reaches up to ruffle Steve’s hair. “Idiot, you _do_ do this without me. I just clean up your mess.” Steve laughs and Sam rolls his eyes. “So, you’ve got a crush on this client?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says, laughing. “This guy I’ve exchanged a few emails with and who probably looks like some kind of cave troll.”

“Cool, I hope you guys will be happy together. In your cave.”

Steve kicks him under the table and thinks about how many hours it is until he can go home and finish reading Bucky’s story.

\--

 ** _pictureofhealth_** is online

 **pictureofhealth**  
Bucky holy shit  
I just finished

 **ohmysergeant**  
!!  
???

 **pictureofhealth**  
I'm CRYING you jerk

 **ohmysergeant**  
SCORE

 **pictureofhealth**  
nooo ;__;

 **ohmysergeant**  
sry dude :3  
don't cry, they're not real!  
(guys ignore that I didn't mean it)

 **pictureofhealth**  
lol okay all better  
shit but the bit where he realizes it's Bucky?  
I nearly had a heart attack  
even though I knew it was coming from the start!  
seriously this fic? this is so good. so fucking good.

 **ohmysergeant**  
fffFFF you are TOO KIND  
do not stop

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
srsly I can't wait to draw this  
so many ideas

 **ohmysergeant**  
8D 

**pictureofhealth**  
first, are there any bits you really wanna see?

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh uh  
lemme think  
and tell me if there's anything you think should be in the fic too!

 **pictureofhealth**  
umm maybe the SEX SCENE  
 _/and then they finally get it on and all is well/_  
tell me it doesn't fade to black

 **ohmysergeant**  
HELL NO  
nah I just haven't written much porn  
*blush*  
I need practise!

 **pictureofhealth**  
*eyebrow*  
practical or theoretical study?

 **ohmysergeant**  
is that an offer pal?

 **pictureofhealth**  
lol you wish

 **ohmysergeant**  
well if you look anything like your namesake, how could I resist?

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh yeah I'm a total specimen, that's why I spend all my time alone in my room drawing hot guys

 **ohmysergeant**  
classic narcissist

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
okay I need to find you some porn

 **ohmysergeant**  
…!?

 **pictureofhealth**  
pornspiration!

 **ohmysergeant**  
wow youre really keen to get this sex scene huh?

 **pictureofhealth**  
it's very important to me  
okay, emailed you a bunch of links

 **ohmysergeant**  
*raises eyebrow*  
that was suspiciously fast

 **pictureofhealth**  
duh, stevexbucky pornalikes

 **ohmysergeant**  
THAT’S A THING??

 **pictureofhealth**  
what do you spend your time doing in fandom?

 **ohmysergeant**  
you know, reading fic, writing meta. THE USUAL.

 **pictureofhealth**  
no no ‘the usual’ is jacking off

 **ohmysergeant**  
I am learning so much about you tonight

 **pictureofhealth**  
I promise I’m not a sex addict

 **ohmysergeant**  
HMMM

 **pictureofhealth**  
but I want 500 words of porn on my desk by morning

 **ohmysergeant**  
LOL you  <3  
okay imma go do my ‘research’

 **pictureofhealth**  
don’t strain anything : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
legit hate you

\--

Bucky fetches a glass of water and takes his laptop into his room. Clint’s already been side-eying him suspiciously for giggling so much, and all Bucky can do is shrug and say, “It’s just Steve, he makes me laugh.” Watching gay porn in the same room as Clint might be a step too far. It’s not that Clint would give a shit, but he might join in watching, and if Bucky ends up needing to fap, well, that’s gonna be awkward. He gets in bed and opens the links Steve emailed him. 

Most of them are mesmerizing gifs of guys making out, rimming or blowing each other; in one case a guy is blowing himself, and Bucky tries not to think about whether Steve’s got an oral fixation or whether it’s just a happy coincidence. That seems like a little too much to know about a person he otherwise knows nothing about. The last link is to a twenty minute video of two _beautiful_ guys getting it on, and Bucky lasts about thirty seconds of them making out before he surrenders and sticks his hands in his pants. As soon as it’s over, and he’s lying on his bed with his laptop shoved to one side and come turning sticky on his belly, he realizes with a start that he’s going to be picturing Steve as the skinny blond guy from the video from now on. 

He cleans himself off and heads back into the other room to make himself a drink. Clint looks up from his laptop with a smug grin. “Cybersexing already? James, you hardly know him.”

“Shut it.”

“Aw, I think it’s cute. So is he a hairy forty year old virgin or a hairy thirteen year old virgin?”

Bucky shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“Only in the eyes of the law. And society at large.” Clint frowns. “And God?”

“We didn’t have cybersex.”

“That’s a shame.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“What! It’s kinda hot,” he says, grinning. “I dunno, maybe it’s to do with being deaf but I really like it when someone describes what they’re gonna do to me.”

“Huh,” Bucky says, frowning at him. “You know, that actually makes a surprising amount of sense.” He grins and kicks a pillow at Clint. “But please stop telling me about your sex life. I’ve heard you and Kate in flagrante enough times to last me years of therapy.”

“Aw yeah, I meant to tell you, me and Kate are on a break.”

Bucky sits down with a thud. “Dude, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Clint shrugs. “She’s going on a road trip with America. They’re free to do what they want, man, it’s not my place to tell her what she can and can’t do.”

Bucky laughs. “Buddy, you are wise beyond your years.”

"Tell that to Kate."

"Right, like she'd listen to me. The last time you guys had a fight she told me we deserve each other."

Clint smiles at him. "We do."

It's disarmingly sweet, and Bucky can't help smiling back. "Yeah, maybe." He shifts over to the couch and snuggles up against Clint, who unthinkingly puts an arm around him. 

"You smell like sex."

"Just close your eyes and enjoy it for thirty seconds. Pretend we don't have to pretend to be macho."

Clint laughs and gives him a squeeze. “Okay."


	2. It's not you I'm thinking of

**pictureofhealth**  
So i’ve been thinking about your fic

 **ohmysergeant**  
do tell!

 **pictureofhealth**  
well 1) I wanna know what they look like, if you picture them/their outfits any different  
2) what’s the landscape like? where’s it set? what are the interiors like in the bases? are they old and grungy or creepily shiny?

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh wow okay. I need to think about that one!

 **pictureofhealth**  
np just curious really! also cool if you don’t know, i have some ideas.  
you make any progress with your sex issue?

 **ohmysergeant**  
…

 **pictureofhealth**  
the porn you were writing!

 **ohmysergeant**  
omfg don’t scare me like that

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl

 **ohmysergeant**  
u suck steeb  
haha not yet though, no. idk it’s just not coming  
NO PUN INTENDED

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh snap  
need some more inspiration?

 **ohmysergeant**  
jfc your previous inspiration was distracting enough

 **pictureofhealth**  
*raises eyebrow*  
k I got a better idea

 **ohmysergeant**  
please let it involve webcam

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
cute  
2 secs lemme make some coffee and plug my tablet in

 **ohmysergeant**  
k!  
oh man the cutest guy came into work today and we were flirting  
well, I was flirting  
and I was literally about to write my number on his takeaway cup when his gf showed up

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh no! sure they were dating?

 **ohmysergeant**  
they made out, so it seemed a safe bet  
it’s cool, he’d probably have turned out to be an asshole, y’no?  
i have a special talent for attracting assholes

 **pictureofhealth**  
That must come in handy

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh sure, I feel like getting my heart stomped on I have only to snap my fingers

 **pictureofhealth**  
sry i’m quiet - drawing!  
wanna see? : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
um! duh!

 **pictureofhealth**  
but in return you gotta write a hundred words

 **ohmysergeant**  
okaaaay

 ** _pictureofhealth_** is sending a file

 **ohmysergeant**  
WTF STEVE

 **pictureofhealth**  
o yea nsfw

 **ohmysergeant**  
NO SHIT  
I  
FUCK

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha :D

 **ohmysergeant**  
augh who told you that Bucky picking up skinny!Steve is my bulletproof kink  
you devil

 **pictureofhealth**  
FffFFF me too  
Height difference nnfgh  <3

 **ohmysergeant**  
yeah holy shit  
consider me pornspired dude!

 **pictureofhealth**  
yessss :D  
k you write, i gotta take a bath.

 **ohmysergeant**  
get yourself a little hot under the collar drawing that?

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha maybe :p  
but no I got a date later!  
some of us have gaydar installed

 **ohmysergeant**  
ouch  
maybe i just need an update

 **pictureofhealth**  
I heard gaydar 3.0 is out  
if that doesn’t work try a hard reset

 **ohmysergeant**  
what’s that? like, sleep with a woman?

 **pictureofhealth**  
if you think it’ll work ;D

 **ohmysergeant**  
I’ll look into it  
enjoy yourself dude :) be safe!

 **pictureofhealth**  
thanks : >

\--

Steve knows that hiding in the bathroom is never a good option for long, but he’s on the road to freaking out and he needs five minutes to think. Eight months in England has not exactly tempered Howard’s determination when it comes to sexual conquest. Steve dressed in his only pair of skinny jeans, a black t-shirt and a cardigan, and thought he was pretty well dressed for a first date, until Howard showed up in slacks and a button down with a suit jacket slung over his shoulder. Steve was expecting pizza and a couple of beers and maybe, _maybe_ some making out on the couch if it wasn’t insanely awkward. Howard, apparently, has grander ideas. 

Steve started to quietly panic when they got to Manhattan, and he’s never felt as uncomfortable as he did walking into the restaurant with Howard’s proprietary hand on the small of his back. He knows he didn’t imagine the dirty look he got from the waiters, and he’s half convinced they think he’s some college kid rentboy that Howard’s taken a shine to. Especially once Howard started trying to get his hands down Steve’s pants _at the table_. 

There’s no signal in the bathroom, and Steve climbs on top of the toilet to hold his phone over his head. He yelps in triumph; two bars. He emails Peggy.

> To: Margaret Carter [m.l.carter@googlemail.com]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: I’M A FOOL  
>  \--  
>  On a date with Howard.
> 
> Cambridge has only made his bad bits worse. He’s parading me around a fancy restaurant like Pretty fucking Woman and trying to grope me over the bread basket and the bathroom window is too small to climb out of WHAT DO I DO :(
> 
> should i pour my wine over him??

He knows he’s not getting a response tonight, but he feels a bit better for having vented, and Peggy will get a laugh out of it.

When he’s done, he realizes he’s got an email from Bucky, and he opens it with a warm feeling in his belly.

> To: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  From: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  Subject: picking-up-and-kissing-andthensome  
>  \--  
>  S,  
>  Hope your date is going well! If not, maybe this will cheer you up ;)
> 
>  (also it went a little more d/s than I expected I hope that's cool!)
> 
>  
> 
> Steve comes home in a bad mood. It’s not the first time, won’t be the last, but it’s a pretty monumental bad mood, even for him. He blows in like a summer storm, slamming the door behind him and knocking a picture off the wall. He scowls at Bucky next, like _he’s_ somehow responsible for the picture. Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but Steve doesn’t even let him get that far.
> 
> “I ain’t in the mood, Buck,” he snaps, holding his hand up. “Don’t even start.”
> 
> Bucky frowns, stung. He’d only meant to make light of it, to offer Steve some coffee to settle his nerves, and he doesn’t like getting clawed for his troubles when he’s only trying to pet. “Suit yourself,” he says quietly, and goes back to shining his shoes on the table, contenting himself with the smell of cracked polish and the rustle of newsprint. 
> 
> Steve disappears into the bedroom, and Bucky hears him knocking around for a few minutes. Lucky enough there’s not much to break in there. He comes out a little while later, still wearing his work clothes and a vicious scowl. He walks over to the kitchen bench and slams a saucepan on the stove. 
> 
> “Steve.”
> 
> “I said don’t-”
> 
> “Stop it.” Bucky gets to his feet and walks up behind Steve, watches the tension go solid in his shoulders. He wipes his hands on his undershirt, then pulls Steve’s suspenders off, sliding them down over his skinny arms. 
> 
> “Buck, I ain’t in the mood,” Steve mutters, looking to one side with his bottom lip pouting. He looks like a dumb kid who’s been told off. 
> 
> “I ain’t interested,” Bucky says in a low voice, pulling Steve’s shirt out of his pants. “I don’t wanna hear what happened, I don’t care. I just want you to learn some fuckin’ respect when you walk in that door.”
> 
> He hears the catch of breath in Steve’s throat, the way his pigeon chest jumps. “My house too, Bucky.”
> 
> “Yeah well tonight you’re gonna behave.”
> 
> Steve shakes his head minutely, and Bucky gets this feral grin on his face. He can’t deny he enjoys it when Steve makes his job harder for him. He unfastens the top three buttons of Steve’s shirt, then grabs the fraying hem and yanks it up, over his head. Steve struggles, but not enough to stop him getting it off. Bucky’s hands go around his skinny chest and he drops his head to gnaw at the point where Steve’s shoulder meets his neck[...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2379083)

Steve whines and puts his phone away before he spends the next twenty minutes hiding and reading porn. That’s not gonna solve his Howard problem. He splashes some water on his face and examines his reflection in the mirror with a scowl. He feels shit. He _looks_ shit. Honestly, he can’t work out why Howard’s even trying so hard, unless he can’t get a date somewhere else. 

He knows he’s been gone a suspiciously long time, but Howard doesn’t even seem to realize he’d left. Steve shakes his head when Howard tries to offer him more wine, and tries to work out what he used to see in this guy. They used to make each other laugh; he remembers that. Howard’s flirting used to be charming, goodnatured, but now it feels like a tool, and when he’s not telling drunken anecdotes about his ‘pals’ at Cambridge, he’s trying to communicate something from his Engineering Masters that’s totally incomprehensible to Steve. 

Steve refuses dessert and looks elsewhere while Howard gets the bill. As soon as they’re on the street, Howard puts an arm around his shoulders and leans in to nuzzle Steve’s neck. “Sorry,” he says quietly, “I know you hated that. Guess I forgot how to do normal dates.”

“Yeah, maybe you need reminding,” Steve says, and kicks himself for it. But he just can’t _help_ it. As soon as Howard turns that fucking charm on, he’s _done_. He’s got a faint trace of expensive cologne but underneath that he’s warm and inviting, smelling faintly of burnt matches. His hand trails down to Steve’s waist, hot and insistent. 

“Your place or mine, babe?” he mutters, nuzzling at Steve’s left ear. “I got nowhere to be in the morning.”

Steve feels like gagging, and he pushes Howard away firmly. “No, I don’t think so,” he says calmly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think sex is on the cards tonight.”

Howard looks at him steadily, pushing his hands in his pockets. “Is it any night?”

“Is that all this is?” Steve asks, sticking his chin out.

To his disgust, Howard chuckles under his breath, and shrugs. “My mistake.”

Steve shakes his head. “Forget it, Howard. Have a nice fucking life, yeah?” He turns away and marches off in the direction of the subway. He doesn’t have enough cash on him for a cab. As he walks off, he could swear he hears Howard call his name, but he keeps on walking. 

\--

 ** _pictureofhealth_** is online

 **pictureofhealth**  
well that was a waste of time

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh hey! good timing, I was just about to sign off

 **pictureofhealth**  
crap sorry I forgot it was so late, night dude : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
no no I’ve been desperate for someone to talk to!  
my roommate and his gf got back together  
So what’s up? didn’t go well?

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh my god

 **ohmysergeant**  
lol oh dear  
let me make some coffee, then tell me all

 **pictureofhealth**  
nah it’s okay really

 **ohmysergeant**  
Steve, I’m here, I’m happy to listen

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay, thanks :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay buddy, i got coffee, pop tarts and no lectures until 12 tomorrow. spill.

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha i feel bad now, there’s not that much to tell  
no i guess there is, but it’s a long boring story

 **ohmysergeant**  
my favorite kind

 **pictureofhealth**  
lucky you!  
well I’ve known this guy for ages, we’ve had this will-they-won’t-they tension for like a year, back to when I was in a relationship and we both messed around with him a few times  
like, consensually i mean! i’m not a cheat

 **ohmysergeant**  
didn’t think you were :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah anyway he’s been studying in England, got back a few weeks ago and we ran into each other, and this time we’re both single  
seemed like time to finally give it a go

 **ohmysergeant**  
so did you?  
give it a go?  
wink nudge etc  
did u bang him

 **pictureofhealth**  
lmfao  
i got it ty  
and no, sadly  
well i guess it was a good thing in the end except the fact i’m in the longest dry spell EVER

 **ohmysergeant**  
too bad man, i’m sorry! that sucks!  
but back to the story! :p

 **pictureofhealth**  
impatient much?  
well we went to dinner but it was kinda fancy and awkward

 **ohmysergeant**  
did he pay?

 **pictureofhealth**  
ahha he offered and i had to say yes! i’m so broke

 **ohmysergeant**  
ouch

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah well  
then he started getting REALLY fresh with me  
and i mean - not entirely unwelcome, but also we barely saw each other for eight months and he doesn’t even wanna hang out a little bit?  
just dinner and a fuck?

 **ohmysergeant**  
classy dude  
what a jerk

 **pictureofhealth**  
IKR  
shit i’m so glad I’m not the only one, everyone else has been telling me I’m a fussy grandpa and I should just put my dick in him already  
like  
ty guys  
I know how it works

 **ohmysergeant**  
lmao Steeb  <3  
you’ve been drinking haven’t you?

 **pictureofhealth**  
shh just a few glasses of wine, I was mad  
like he was SO CLEARLY not interested in talking to me :ohmysergeant  
that’s shitty dude, I’m sorry  
but for the record?  
hell with those guys you call friends  
If you didn’t wanna bang the guy, that’s a legit choice to make. your friends shouldn’t invalidate you wanting to get to know someone first

 **pictureofhealth**  
:3 I am so glad we finally talked

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha tell me about it  
i had the biggest fancrush on you since like  
high school  
back when you used to draw under **capameriqueer**

 **pictureofhealth**  
nooooo lmao don’t remind me, I was so bad  
also i’m trying to forget that handle existed

 **ohmysergeant**  
stfu dude you were awesome then and now you kick ALL the butts

 **pictureofhealth**  
*blush* thanks :3  
did you have the same handle then?

 **ohmysergeant**  
nah  
do not laugh  
i used to be **sgtjbabemagnet**

****pictureofhealth****  
BUCKY  
HOW  
AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LAUGH AT THAT 

**ohmysergeant**  
ihu 

**pictureofhealth**  
omg wait  
wait!  
I remember you!! 

**ohmysergeant**  
what nooo 

**pictureofhealth**  
no really!  
you commented on like every single one of my drawings!  
of course i remember you! 

**ohmysergeant**  
starcrossed fanboys 

**pictureofhealth**  
haha well we’ve found each other now  
shit i think I should get to bed, I have so much work to do tomorrow 

**ohmysergeant**  
okay dude, sleep well 

**pictureofhealth**  
you too, and thanks for listening :) 

**ohmysergeant**  
any time! 

_**pictureofhealth** is offline_

\-- 

“So you never told me about your date last week. I take it that’s a bad sign.” 

Steve looks over at Sam from where he’s slumped on the couch and scowls. “Peggy told you.” 

Sam grins at him. “You could tell me.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Steve mutters, and rolls over. “Guy’s a jerk.” 

“You used to be really into him.” 

“Yeah well I was young and stupid and thinking with my dick.” Steve sighs. “God, I’m so wiped. Thanks for coming.” 

“That’s what I do.” Sam disappears into the kitchen, and Steve stares unseeingly at the movie playing on his laptop, tiredness zoning him out. Sam emerges five minutes later and hands Steve a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich cut into triangles. 

“You’re the _best_ ,” Steve moans, stuffing one of the triangles in his mouth. 

Sam lifts Steve’s legs so he can sit down, then pulls Steve’s feet into his lap. “I know,” he says carelessly. While Steve eats, Sam rubs his feet through his thick socks and makes dumb comments about the movie. It’s pretty much one of Steve’s favorite things about Sam; he’s so free with his hands, and he never waits to be asked to give Steve a head rub or a shoulder massage, knowing that he almost definitely needs one at any given time. Steve doesn’t really get joint pain like he used to but it flares up sometimes, especially when he’s been working too long or failing to rest. He doesn’t make that mistake as often as he used to. 

Steve finishes his sandwich slowly and eyes the pile of work on his coffee table. Sam brought his notes over, but there’s also his fandom stuff piled up and waiting to be finished. He’s pretty much been down for the count for a week, since the abysmal date with Howard. In hindsight, drinking had been a bad idea, as had walking half the way home because he didn’t wanna shell out for a cab. Still, he’s reread Bucky’s skinny!Steve fic half a dozen times because _holy shit_ , even if he’s too fucked out to actually fap to it, and he’s made a start on the big bang art. It’s only a few sketches and layout ideas right now because he doesn’t have the energy to sit and draw for too long, and if he did it would have to be homework, but it’s nice to have something to share with Bucky in return. He’s already got used to talking to him every other day, and when they’re not talking he’ll often find himself wondering what Bucky’s up to, how he’s getting on at work or at college, whether he’s on a date or at the movies. 

“Earth to Steve?" 

“Mm?” 

“You look like you could use a nap, dude.” 

Steve nods sleepily. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“I’ll get the movie,” Sam says, extricating himself from Steve’s legs and going to shut the laptop off. He knocks the table with his knee, and a pile of sketches slithers onto the carpet. “Crap.” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout ‘em,” Steve mutters, pushing his plate onto the table. “S’okay.” 

“Nah, I got ‘em.” Sam gathers up the stack of drawings, and hesitates in a crouch, flicking through them. “Steve, these are Marvel right? Cap and the Winter Soldier?” 

Steve’s eyes snap open. “Uh, yeah,” he says awkwardly. “I was just - trying out some character design.” 

“They’re awesome, dude. You should think about working in comics.” 

“I dunno,” Steve says with a shrug. “Not sure it’s my style.” 

Sam puts the drawings down reverently. “Could be.” He comes around the table to give Steve a hand up. “Come on, up you get, you oughta sleep in the bed. You gotta pee first?” 

Steve considers it for a moment, before shaking his head. He lets Sam help him up, leaning heavily on his shoulder. It’s not that he can’t move himself, his body just feels heavy and weak, and sometimes he gets dizzy spells. Usually if Sam’s not there to make sure he eats properly, but hey. Sam gets him settled in bed, and Steve rolls over to get comfy. “You gonna stay?” 

“If you want. Got my homework with me.” 

Steve smiles. “Just for a little while, if it’s okay." 

“Sure it’s okay, dude. Get some rest.” 

\-- 

“James. _James?_ ” 

He looks up suddenly, unnerved to find that Natasha is standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “Uh, sorry,” he says, with a rueful grin. “My mind was elsewhere.” 

“You think?” She hands him a stack of paper napkins. “Would you go fill the box, please?” 

Bucky salutes her and scoots around the counter to do just that. The condiments counter needs tidying anyway, so he fiddles with it for a few minutes, until he becomes aware that Natasha is lurking again. “Uhh.” 

“What’s going on with you?” she asks, eyeing him suspiciously. “You know that girl who just came in was totally flirting with you, right? You didn’t even notice.” 

“She was?" 

Natasha frowns, her expression softening somewhat. “Is everything alright? 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, forcing a laugh. He can’t exactly tell Natasha he’s too busy thinking about a photo Steve posted that morning. It’s so rare that Steve posts photos of himself, and previously it’s only been a hand or an ankle, nothing particularly identifiable. Turns out he slipped down the stairs in his building last night and fell on his ass, and he has a huge bruise crawling down his thigh. It’s not like Bucky checks his tumblr _every morning_ or anything, but he happened to check it on his way to work and couldn’t stop looking at the snatch of slim, pale thigh; a slender red line of his underwear at the edge of the picture. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky assures her. “Just thinking about something. 

Natasha nods slowly. “Uh huh. Well, try and save it for your break, alright?” 

“Yes, Mom,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. 

She punches him in the arm, but she’s smiling, so Bucky counts that as a win. 

\-- 

_**ohmysergeant** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
there you are 

**ohmysergeant**  
haha, miss me? 

**pictureofhealth**  
I spent my entire day of classes drawing pictures of skinny!Steve and I blame you entirely  
check it out 

_**pictureofhealth** is sending a file_

****ohmysergeant****  
aauguhghh my feelings  
SO CUTE  <3 

**pictureofhealth**  
: >

****ohmysergeant****  
oh my god the one of bucky giving him a piggyback!  
and tHE ONE WHERE THEY’RE KIDS AND HE’S HELPING HIM CLIMB A TREE AUGH  
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU 

**pictureofhealth**  
haha where do I begin  
I’m glad you like them :D 

**ohmysergeant**  
fuck Steve they’re beautiful  
you’re so fucking talented it’s terrifying 

**pictureofhealth**  
shhhh :p 

**ohmysergeant**  
NO OMG YOU ARE SO TALENTED  
I WILL NOT STOP TELLING YOU 

**pictureofhealth**  
argh!  
:D 

**ohmysergeant**  
steeb  <3  
so glad you picked my story holy shit 

**pictureofhealth**  
aw me too dude!  
which reminds me I gotta get working on those drawings 

**ohmysergeant**  
nuclear winter soldier feels D: 

****pictureofhealth****  
noooo D:  
(but yesssss) 

**ohmysergeant**  
might write some steve-and-bucky-as-kids to cheer me up  
because that’s cheerful  
except for the part where their parents die  
and steve is always sick  
and gets beaten up all the time  
and then they both DIE  
but not really  
but it’s WORSE  
oh god  
let’s find a happier fandom 

**pictureofhealth**  
be honest buck you’re just a masochist 

**ohmysergeant**  
it’s true :( 

**pictureofhealth**  
just think about steve standing on tiptoe to kiss bucky 

****ohmysergeant****  
…  
oh man for a second there I forgot you were talking about the characters 

****pictureofhealth****  
pmsl  
yeah I guess we should be SteveRL and BuckyRL or something to avoid confusion 

**ohmysergeant**  
okay so you were saying, SteveRL is standing on tiptoe ... 

****pictureofhealth****  
:p  
ha ha 

**ohmysergeant**  
:D? 

**pictureofhealth**  
anyway  
it’s just kinda awkward and they can’t get it right  
so bucky just lets out this big huff and bends down to haul stevie up by his behind  
and steve just wraps around him like a little starfish and they kiss and kiss 

**ohmysergeant**  
god, you had me at tiptoes  <3 

**pictureofhealth**  
and steve is just this bundle of sticks against his chest, but he’s also warm and fluid and takes no fucking prisoners 

****ohmysergeant****  
LOL  
that part definitely  
steve is a firecracker in bed 

**pictureofhealth**  
ikr  
i don’t hold with all this shrinking violet Steve Rogers nonsense  
like sure maybe he doesn’t have loads of experience with girls  
but if he sees someone he likes and he’s not too busy fighting a war to make a move  
he’d totally go for it 

**ohmysergeant**  
I love when Steve is really experienced in fics, like even more than Bucky 

****pictureofhealth****  
oh godddd that’s so hot  
and he’s just like  
lol bucky of COURSE i’ve had sex here let me show you what I know 

**ohmysergeant**  
‘start by picking me up’ 

**pictureofhealth**  
*flail* 

**ohmysergeant**  
shit okay I gotta get ready to go out  
but I’ll write that fic later :D 

**pictureofhealth**  
picking up and kissing? or climbing trees? 

**ohmysergeant**  
can’t it be both? :D 

****pictureofhealth****  
oh good answer  
have a good night! 

**ohmysergeant**  
ty bb x 

_**ohmysergeant** is offline_


	3. You're the man now, dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack like the entire first half of this is IM chat I'M SORRY. The second half is prose though :x

>   
> **ohmysergeant** posted _in the works - pre-serum!steve/bucky_
> 
> @pictureofhealth got me thinking about wee skinny!Steve and Bucky and then this kinda happened
> 
> ::
> 
> Steve and Bucky had been banished by their mothers after church. Give it a couple of years and they'd be helping out with the laundry _or else_ but for now they were too young and excitable to keep still and follow orders, too caught up in the delight of each other's friendship. They had been cooped up for two hours of mass and an hour of Sunday school and they were ready to blow off some steam.
> 
> It was Spring, and it was just warm enough that Bucky didn't need a jacket, but Mrs Rogers had insisted on Steve wearing a sweater, and he pulled at the collar occasionally while they walked along, Bucky gesticulating wildly while he talked. O'Riley's gang came up behind them – if three scrawny punks could be called a gang – and muscled in on either side in a way that wasn't quite friendly and wasn't quite aggressive.
> 
> "Barnes, Rogers, get a move on!" yelled Keene, cuffing Steve on the back of the head. Bucky laughed with them, but his fingers clenched into fists. "We're gonna climb that apple tree today!"
> 
> O'Riley laughed his a cruel, teasing laugh, and grabbed Bucky by the shoulders. "Rogers couldn't climb a ladder. C'mon, Barnes, you'll be our scout."
> 
> Bucky bristled, but he tried not to let it show. "Nah, me 'n Steve got plans."
> 
> "What sorta plans?" McKinley asked, knocking Steve out of the way to hem Bucky in.
> 
> "Hey, watch it," Bucky said without heat, looking over his shoulder to Steve, who had fallen behind a few paces. He hadn't stopped walking, but his pace had slowed to a dawdle. Bucky reached out for him. "C'mon Steve, let's get outta here."
> 
> "I can climb a tree." Steve folded his arms, stuck out his jaw like he always did when he had something to prove. But O'Riley's and his buddies were bigger than Bucky, and a hell of a lot bigger than Steve, and if things got rough, he didn't wanna end up scrapping in his church clothes. Not even thinking of his own mama, Bucky knew Mrs Rogers would be furious if he brought Steve home torn and bloody on a Sunday afternoon. He took in Steve's defiant posture, and felt himself torn between anxiety and a fierce pride.
> 
> "Sure we can," he said, dropping back to sling an arm around Steve's neck. "We can climb any stupid apple tree."  
> Read More
> 
> #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #my fic #[punches you in the feelings] #pre-slash #skinny!steve #pictureofhealth #you are ruining me #tumblring commandos #guys check this out  
> 

>   
> **pictureofhealth** posted _fic rec!_
> 
> @ohmysergeant wrote this incredible skinny!Steve/Bucky fic inspired my drawings! Please go read it :D
> 
> #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ohmysergeant #you are the best #pls marry me #skinny!steve #POW right in the kisser #people being inspired by my art literally gives me goosebumps #do you even know what you are doing to me  
> 

\--

_**pictureofhealth** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
buckkyyyyyy

**ohmysergeant**  
hey there stevie boy  
you’re up late :)

**pictureofhealth**  
I’ve been out!

**ohmysergeant**  
woah like OUT out?  
hold the presses  
another date? :p

**pictureofhealth**  
augh i think I’m off dating for a while

**ohmysergeant**  
yeah I don’t blame you  
but we’re not all bad :D

**pictureofhealth**  
you are the most incorrigible flirt

**ohmysergeant**  
well i figure  
the more you try, the less each rejection hurts

**pictureofhealth**  
huh  
interesting philosophy

**ohmysergeant**  
and ALSO it’s really nice to think someone wants to date you  
I like knowing I’ve made someone’s day better even if I know they’re gonna say no :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
that might be the best thought out excuse for serial dating i’ve ever heard

**ohmysergeant**  
I’m not a serial dater!  
okay whatever, so where you been if not a date? 

**pictureofhealth**  
omgggg it was so cool!! I went to a Dr Sketchy drawing night :D  
IT WAS SUPERHERO THEMED

**ohmysergeant**  
wait wait what’s that?

**pictureofhealth**  
well it’s like a life drawing thing, except with drinks and stuff, and the models are all in cool costumes  
they do like period stuff, burlesque  
you name it tbh

**ohmysergeant**  
WOAH okay that DOES sound cool

**pictureofhealth**  
I have so many drawings to scan jfc it’s gonna take hours  
but!  
first i have to show you this blazingly hot guy who was cosplaying the winter soldier  
he wasn’t even a model he just showed up in costume  
he bought me a drink ;)

**ohmysergeant**  
ahaha so it WAS a date  
I knew it!

**pictureofhealth**  
nah we were just chatting about comics for a couple of hours that’s all : >  
no need to get jealous c;

**ohmysergeant**  
you get a picture? :D

**pictureofhealth**  
yesss hang on just photoshopping myself out

**ohmysergeant**  
whaaaat that’s a travesty

**pictureofhealth**  
ahahaha i look like crap  
2mins

_**pictureofhealth** is sending a file_

**ohmysergeant**  
shit man  
that’s a NICE costume  
crap, it’s like 10x better than mine

**pictureofhealth**  
UM  
excuse me hello what you have a winter soldier cosplay?

**ohmysergeant**  
HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THAT  
STEEB I HAVE LIKE A WHOLE BUNCH OF COSPLAY PHOTOS ON MY TUMBLR

**pictureofhealth**  
…  
BUCKY  
give me them now omg im gonna have a heart attack

**ohmysergeant**  
okay okay okay hang on i gotta find em, i’ll just send you the whole lot in an email

**pictureofhealth**  
…  
on the edge of my seat for srs

**ohmysergeant**  
LOL shut up :p 

**pictureofhealth**  
…  
okay i just got it

**ohmysergeant**  
:x

**pictureofhealth**  
oh wow.  
SHIT is this squall??

**ohmysergeant**  
uhhh yeah, that one’s from a couple of years ago  
what can I say, teenage Bucky really connected with stoic angst-ridden MCs

**pictureofhealth**  
hate to break it to you buddy  
*whispers* winter soldier

**ohmysergeant**  
MIND BLOWN

**pictureofhealth**  
:p

**ohmysergeant**  
hey  
hey  
steeb  
DUDE hey you’ve been gone like twenty minutes what’s the deal  
i assume you are sleeping  
turn your computer off jackass :p  
okay well some of us have jobs to go to, sleep tight buddy

\--

Steve is not sleeping. Steve _should_ be sleeping, but on top of being tired, he’s drunk and more than a little horny. He may have glossed over what happened with the cosplayer, just slightly. His name was Darrell, and he and Steve ended up moving on to another bar for drinks after the sketch jam ended, and then to a convenient doorway where they made out for twenty minutes while Darrell tried to convince Steve to go home with him, and Steve gave up his number instead.

So now he’s drunk and sleepy and horny and Bucky, as usual, has been doing his meaningless flirting routine. Which was fine, until he sent Steve his cosplay photos and, holy _shit_. Steve hasn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what Bucky looks like until now; sure, it’s crossed his mind, but he always figured it wouldn’t be a thing he’d have to worry about; they’re never gonna end up meeting anyhow. Maddeningly, none of the photos really show his face clearly, but there’s one of him wearing his Winter Soldier costume (which is pretty good, better than Bucky said), and his eyes are _so intense_. 

Steve stumbles into the shower, just meaning to wash off the smell of the club, the beer, but he finds himself reliving the kisses, picturing Bucky’s long legs, his broad shoulders. He thinks about what if it had been Bucky he ran into tonight; Bucky’s strong arms pressing him back against the wall, Bucky’s teeth grazing his neck. Steve shudders and comes over his knuckles with a shocked gasp, his other hand braced against the wall of the shower. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, eyes snapping open. “ _Fuck_.” He ducks under the shower spray to rinse off, and dries himself quickly. He slams his laptop shut on the way to bed and he’s out within minutes.

The next morning is when the guilt hits. He opens his laptop to find his chat with Bucky still open, along with a picture of him dressed as Billy Kaplan, and he feels too sick to keep eating his cereal. It might be partly the hangover, but he has to swallow some dramamine to settle his stomach again, and he quickly deletes the pictures from his computer. 

Honestly, he’s not sure why he feels so guilty because he’s pretty sure Bucky wouldn’t care - hell, he’d probably find it funny, or flattering. But something about it feels wrong and dirty to Steve. He feels like he’s betrayed Bucky’s trust, and part of him wants to confess and the rest of him _never wants to think about it again_. He’s still quietly freaking out four hours later, after he’s slept off the worst of the hangover and is lying, exhausted in front of a movie, when his phone buzzes with an email alert.

> To: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
> From: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
> Subject: spank bank material  
> \--  
> afternoon hot stuff, how’s the head?
> 
> I found another picture, and you’re free to laugh at this one - I was overweight and acned as a teenager, the world might as well know it.
> 
> (but if you’re gonna jerk off over any of them, please let it not be this one?)
> 
> Bx

Steve opens the picture and is surprised by the laughter that bubbles up in his chest. Bucky at (fifteen? sixteen?) was clearly still waiting for a growth spurt, and yeah maybe it would be kindest to say he still had a little puppy fat, but him dressed in a very-homemade looking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume is still one of the cutest things Steve has ever seen. He also finds himself smirking at the comment about jerking off. For some reason it helps alleviate the guilt somewhat; it’s a joke, but it reassures Steve that he probably doesn’t care.

> To: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
> From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
> Subject: RE: spank bank material  
> \--  
> damn, who told you about my secret thing for awkward teenage boys?
> 
> and OF COURSE you were Michelangelo, you dork :>

He goes back to watching the movie, but he keeps his phone in his hand, just in case. Sure enough, he gets another email two minutes later.

> To: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
> From: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
> Subject: RE: RE: spank bank material  
> \--  
> Yeah yeah, we all know you're Donatello. Loser.
> 
> :p

\--

_**pictureofhealth** is online_

**ohmysergeant**  
heyyyy

**pictureofhealth**  
hey buck

**ohmysergeant**  
it’s been a while! you okay?  
I’m so glad you’re here I’m SO fuckin bored  
avoiding my term paper and I mustve jerked off like four times today  
starting to chafe :/

**pictureofhealth**  
ha you dork

**ohmysergeant**  
sry dude i’ll switch the tmi filter back on

**pictureofhealth**  
no, sorry i just  
bad day :/

**ohmysergeant**  
sorry to hear that buddy :(  
foot, meet mouth

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s cool, i’m glad you’re here too

**ohmysergeant**  
you wanna talk about it?

**pictureofhealth**  
can’t stay long, i’m in a cafe and it shuts in ten minutes  
my internet at home is down fsr

**ohmysergeant**  
hmmm  
Okay I know you’re super private and I really respect that, but you want me to call you?  
if not that’s cool

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s okay you don’t need to do that

**ohmysergeant**  
steve, i want to  
do you want me to or not?

**pictureofhealth**  
Okay  
Give me five minutes to pack my shit up and get out of here.

\--

For five minutes, Bucky sits and tries not to stare at his phone. He has Steve’s number. _He has Steve’s number._ But as excited as he is to finally talk to him, he’s also eaten up with anxiety. He waits exactly four minutes and thirty eight seconds before he dials, then holds his breath as it rings and rings.

Just as he’s about to hang up, Steve answers.

“Hello?”

Bucky can’t help the goofy smile that steals across his face. “Steve?”

“Bucky, hey.” There’s a long silence, then they both laugh.

“I like your voice,” Bucky says, feeling stupid and self-conscious. “Is that weird?”

He hears Steve chuckle. “No, it’s really nice, thanks.” Another brief pause, then Steve continues more quietly, “I’m glad you called.”

Bucky closes his eyes and tries to picture Steve on the other end. He’s soft spoken and polite-sounding, probably around the same height as him. “I’m glad you picked up,” he says, still smiling. “You on your way home now?”

“Yeah. I should pick up something to eat but I can’t be assed.”

“Order in?”

Steve laughs bitterly. “Can’t afford it. Not this month anyway. Maybe if I get my school work outta the way I can get some commissions done.”

Bucky smiles, surprised; he's pretty sure Steve hasn't let that slip before. "You're in college?" He likes that Steve has started to loosen up with him, to trust him enough to give away snippets of personal details here and there. Bucky gathers them up and tucks them away inside a little Steeb folder in his head.

"Oh, yeah," Steve says, distracted. "Senior year. I never told you that?"

"No. It's okay though, I get it."

"I'm sorry." Steve sighs, sounding tired and frustrated. Bucky wants to give him a hug. "I wish I didn't have to be so secretive sometimes. Ask me something, if you want."

Bucky frowns, paralysed by choice, forgetting suddenly all the hundreds of things he wants to know about Steve. "What are you studying?"

"Art," Steve says, laughing. "Obviously."

"Right. So you got a lot of work to do? Is that why you're feeling shitty?"

Steve lets out another sigh, a weary huff. "Not really, but it doesn't help." He takes a deep breath. "I have ME, you know, like chronic fatigue? So I miss a lot of class, and a lot of the time I'm too tired to work, or I have to do it in bed."

For some reason that just makes Bucky feel like a selfish jerk and he winces. "That sucks, dude, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"Well you're like only the third person in fandom I ever told so, yeah. It's not that bad really, just sometimes."

"Like now?"

"No, now is average. Bad would be me lying on the couch for three days."

"Ouch." Bucky leaves a respectful silence before pushing. "Hey, so, it's fine if you don't wanna tell me what's up, but I'm more than happy to listen if you do." Steve clears his throat, and Bucky hears the sound of a door closing in the background. At once the noise of wind and traffic drops away. "Home?" he asks, smiling.

"Yeah. I, uh. Thank you, Bucky. Just give me ten minutes to make some ramen and get changed and then I'll talk as much as you want."

"Oh okay, no problem. Shall I call you back?"

"No," Steve says quickly, "stay on the line? I mean, if you don't mind?"

"I absolutely do not mind."

"You're my favorite person right now."

Bucky grins and tells himself it's just hyperbole, but it doesn't stop him wanting to believe it anyway. He listens to Steve clatter about in his apartment. "I feel kinda bad listening to you just eat ramen."

"Don't worry," Steve says, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. "I found a couple of cheese triangles in the fridge too."

That actually _hurts_ , and Bucky groans loudly. "Okay, you need to stop before I bust my way down your phoneline and drag you out for real food."

"Alright, alright," Steve says, still a hint of laughter in his voice. Bucky's relieved to hear him sounding a bit more cheerful. "Tell me about your day?"

Bucky flops back on his bed. "My day? Hmm. It really wasn't that exciting. I went to class, went to work, called my mom-" He laughs. "I was supposed to have a date today and she wanted to hear all about it, but the guy cancelled in the end so we just ended up talking about my little sister's school play for like forty minutes, I think she’s gonna be an actress when she’s older-" Steve gasps on the other end, and Bucky hesitates. "Steve?"

"Hang on," Steve gasps, and Bucky hears a thud as he drops the phone.

He sits bolt upright. "Steve?" Nothing. Immediately, he begins to panic. The only thing that stops him from hanging up straight away and calling 911 is that he can still hear the faint sound of someone moving around, and also the fact that a) he doesn't know Steve's name or b) where he lives. He holds on for almost two minutes, trapped by indecision, until there's a scrape and he finally hears Steve's voice again.

"Bucky?" He sounds shaky and upset, and Bucky nearly has a heart attack.

"Steve! Holy shit, I thought something happened to you, I was about to call 911. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice wavering and uncertain. "I couldn't find my inhaler. Panicked a bit."

Bucky frowns. "Are you sure? You don't sound okay to me. Did something happen?"

Steve takes a shuddering breath, then another, getting more and more uneven. "I – I – Bucky," he whines, voice cracking. It sounds like he's crying, and Bucky wonders how the hell this went downhill so quickly.

"I'm here, Steve," he says in a soothing tone, "it'll be okay, I'm here, just take a deep breath." He talks without knowing what he's even saying, just trying to calm Steve down.

"I – I'm so fuh – fucking lonely," Steve gulps, his voice broken up and absolutely gutwrenching to hear. "My muh – my mom, she died t - t - two years ago today."

Bucky feels his insides go cold. "Oh, Steve," he says quietly, "I'm so sorry."

"N – not your fault."

"That's not always why people say sorry, dude," Bucky says with a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "I am though, you probably heard it all before. I wish I had something better to say."

"S'okay," Steve mumbles, his voice slightly steadier. "I'm just glad you called."

"Yeah, me too."

Steve forces a laugh. "Even if I turned it into a shrink session."

"You didn't do anything," Bucky says a little forcefully. "You're allowed to be sad, stupid."

"Thanks, Freud."

"Freud was an ass, can't I at least be Jung?"

"I guess you are younger than me."

"I am? Oh, I guess-" Bucky tails off. "Oh you fucker, was that a pun? Junger? Fuck you."

That, at least, gets a real laugh out of Steve. They fall into a companionable silence, and Bucky listens to Steve's breathing even out. "Gotta make dinner," he says at last, and Bucky listens to him pottering around his kitchen in the background; the microwave beeping, a cupboard door slamming, the rattle of cutlery. "So what did _you_ eat tonight?" he asks eventually. "Let me live vicariously at least."

Bucky groans. "You'll be disappointed. I just had some leftover casserole my parents left me at the weekend."

"Come on, tell me about it," Steve pleads. "I'm eating ramen with barbecue sauce and a cheese triangle on top."

"Gross, dude," Bucky says, actually pulling a face.

"Exactly! Come on, you're a writer, use your words."

Bucky laughs self-consciously. "Okay, okay. It's a chicken casserole – dark meat, so it's all soft and melt in the mouth and the gravy is sooo thick and rich-" Steve moans softly, and Bucky presses on, "Uh and it's got zucchini and mushrooms and onions, and loads of garlic and tarragon – my mom grows all her own herbs so she always uses loads in her cooking-"

Steve audibly groans this time. Bucky hesitates and bites his lip. He can't help thinking about Steve making that sound for him in other scenarios, and before he can stop himself, he’s thinking again about the Steve/Bucky pornalikes. "Oh my _god_ , I'm so fucking hungry right now," Steve whines. "Don't stop."

He laughs and continues, "and there's just a little bit of spice, just a tiny bit to heat it up, and I got some sourdough too, lots of butter 'cause it's a little bit stale, but it just soaks all the gravy right up."

"Shit, I love sourdough." Steve is quiet for a bit longer, then he sighs heavily. "Okay, ramen's all gone. Thanks man, I think you made it taste a little bit better."

"No problem."

There's a long pause, and Steve makes a thoughtful noise. "You know, I feel like we just had phone sex. Is that weird?"

"Nah dude," Bucky says, trying to sound casual and not at all like he's imagining it. "I'd be honoured to have phone sex with you."

Steve actually giggles, and Bucky's heart does a little skip, because Steve is _so fucking cute_ and all he can think about is whether he's this cute in person, and whether he would even _care_ what Steve looks like. He's pretty sure he wouldn't. "On that note," Steve says, still sounding amused, "I gotta get changed, so you get the dubious honour of listening to me take my clothes off."

Bucky groans. "You’re totally punking me. Suddenly I regret telling you just how inactive my sex life is right now."

"More active than mine," Steve says, his voice going muffled at the end, and Bucky's breath catches when he realizes Steve is taking his shirt off right now.

"Steve?"

"Uh huh?"

"What do you look like?" He swallows, and goes on in what he hopes is a non-committal tone. "Y'no, so I can properly appreciate the phone sex."

Steve hesitates for maybe ten seconds before he replies. "I'm nothing special. Hair, two eyes, arms and legs. The usual."

Bucky can take a hint, so he backs off a little and goes for something easier. "How many tattoos do you have?" He knows this is safer ground for Steve because he's posted pictures of his tattoos occasionally before, or sketches for ones he'd like to get one day, and he seems to appreciate the reprieve.

"Which ones do you know about?"

"There's that many?" He grins. "Well I know you have one on your neck but I haven't seen it, and I've seen the one on your foot, oh and you got one on your wrist, right?"

"Yeah, and my arm." Steve takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and there's a soft creak in the background.

"Are you in bed?" Bucky asks him with a wry smile.

"Yeah, I'm wrecked."

"Okay well, tell me the second you get too tired, I don't wanna keep you up."

"S'okay, gotta tell you about my ink. I'll take a picture of the one on my neck for you, if you want, but don't show it to anyone okay? I'm not gonna post it."

"Of course not, dude, I wouldn't dream of it."

"Thanks," Steve says, his voice going warm and sleepy. "Mm let's see. I have one on my hip." He laughs, "and I have the uh, you'll have seen the wing on my arm."

Bucky sits up. "What? Like a Captain America wing?"

"Yeah, you didn't see that?"

"No! Steve! I have one on my left arm!"

"Get the fuck out."

"No really!" Bucky fumbles his arm out of his sweatshirt sleeve. "I'm gonna send you a picture right now." He switches the phone to his other hand and pulls his sweater up over his shoulder. The photo catches his shoulder and the curve of his jaw, and he sends it before he can change his mind. "Okay, done," he says, putting the phone back to his ear.

"I'll take some of mine tomorrow," Steve says sleepily. "You send it already?"

"Yeah, should be on its way."

"Oh, hang on, just got it." There's silence for a moment. "Fuck, that's exactly the same as mine!"

Bucky bursts out laughing. "We are ridiculous, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to agree."

"Steve and Bucky, OTP."

Steve laughs softly, but he's obviously getting tired. "What're you up to tomorrow?"

"Classes, then work." Bucky yawns and stretches. "Man, you're makin' _me_ sleepy."

"Sorry, I should probably get some rest soon."

"Okay, I'll let you go."

"Not yet. I mean, unless you wanna sleep-"

"No no," Bucky assures him quickly. "I'm all yours."

"Good. Then, just talk to me a little longer?"

"What about?"

"I dunno."

"Okay hang on, let me grab a book and I'll read to you."

Steve giggles again, "That would be awesome! You wouldn't mind?"

"Be my pleasure."

He goes into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water, then grabs his Nabokov paperback from the nightstand. "This should put you to sleep," he says, settling back in bed and opening the book to the first page. "You ever read Lolita?" Steve makes a soft noise of dissent, and Bucky smiles. "Okay, good."

Bucky starts to read. After a few pages he stops to check if Steve is awake, which is he, just about, but after that he just keeps reading. He's been going for about half an hour when he pauses to take a sip of water and Steve yawns loudly and mumbles, "Mm, Bucky?"

"Hey you."

"Oh man I fell asleep, I'm sorry."

"That was kinda the point," Bucky says, smiling fondly down at the book.

"Mmkay. I like your voice, 's nice."

"Thanks buddy. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Bucky. Thanks for calling."

"You're welcome. Goodnight."


	4. The sound of one hand clapping

Steve wakes up the next morning feeling sluggish and washed-out. He scrabbles for the glass of water on his nightstand and takes a long swallow of it, then grabs his phone to check the time. He’s already an hour late to the studio, and he groans as he flops back onto the bed. He frowns when he sees he has two texts from an unfamiliar number.

**{Hope you’re doing alright. Here if you need me.}**  
 **{Unless you do want me to delete your number which is totally cool btw}**

He grins and reaches over for his glasses so that he can actually see to type accurately.

**{I feel like a million $, you have a magic voice :)}**  
 **{Also DO NOT delete. Now I have you on call for starbuck feels.}**

He saves Bucky’s number, and he’s barely put his phone aside when it buzzes with another message, and he picks it up straight away.

**{Roger, Rogers.}**

Steve bursts out laughing and texts back, **{What’s our vector, Victor?}**

 **{SNRFB}** Bucky replies almost immediately. **{You eat breakfast yet?}**

**{Nope}**

**{Let’s get breakfast. Switch your laptop on.}**

With a laugh, Steve does as he’s told.

\-- 

_**pictureofhealth** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
yr wish is my command

 **ohmysergeant**  
you’re in charge Cap, I’m just here to make your dumb plans look good

 **pictureofhealth**  
ah right my mistake. what’s for breakfast?

 **ohmysergeant**  
idk whatcha got?

 **pictureofhealth**  
uhhh  
might have some energy bars left  
black coffee?

 **ohmysergeant**  
THAT is not a breakfast  
gdi if you were nearer I would cook you the best breakfast :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha you’re not THAT far away, we’re the same timezone right? where do you live anyway?

 **ohmysergeant**  
are you accepting my offer of breakfast?

 **pictureofhealth**  
depends, was it a come on?  
you know like  
I’ll make you breakfast  
AFTER YOU SPEND ALL NIGHT COMING ON MY FACE

 **ohmysergeant**  
shit cap that’s kinda forward of you

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
shut up you started it  
and don't think I missed you dodging my question

 **ohmysergeant**  
ohhh sry I forgot you're the only one allowed to keep secrets

 **pictureofhealth**  
burn!!

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha no I'm kidding, I live in Boston

 **pictureofhealth**  
that's not so far : >  
still too far for breakfast though

 **ohmysergeant**  
ah well, another time!  
so what plans today?

 **pictureofhealth**  
well I'm sposed to be in class an hour ago :/

 **ohmysergeant**  
ahh crap, bad day? :(

 **pictureofhealth**  
so-so. slept through my alarm  
I'll go in after lunch

 **ohmysergeant**  
sorry dude, I wish I could help

 **pictureofhealth**  
you helped a lot, Buck  
seriously I meant it when I said I feel great today :3  
just need my body to get the memo

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay :) listen I gotta get to work but text me if you need to chat  
or call! talking is good too

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay thanks :D  
have a good day!

 **ohmysergeant**  
you too pal  
don't push yourself too hard

_**ohmysergeant** is offline_

\--

Bucky doesn't actually expect Steve to call, figuring him for too shy, so he's surprised when he texts Steve **{On break SO BORED}** and his phone starts ringing ten seconds later.

"Hey!" he answers, sounding way too excited.

"Hi, Bucky," Steve says, sounding warm but subdued.

"Is everything okay?" he asks quickly. His fingers worry at a loose label on a box of pre-packaged cookies.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine," Steve says, sounding awkward. "Sorry, I shouldn't have bugged you-"

"No no," Bucky says with a relieved laugh. "I told you to call if you wanna talk, it's cool." He sits down and puts his feet on top of a crate of soft drinks. "What's up?"

"Well, I just-" Steve hesitates, then laughs at himself uncertainly. "I guess I just wanted to say hi. Oh, and in class this afternoon-"

Steve launches into a dumb story about his life drawing class, while Bucky leans back in his chair and eats his sandwich with one hand. Natasha comes through at one point and yells at him to take his feet off the merchandise, and Steve laughs at him. "That your manager?"

"She thinks she is," Bucky mutters, scowling at her. She sticks her tongue out in reply. "Well I guess she will be, they’re interviewing for a new manager tomorrow and she’s definitely gonna get it.”

Natasha grins at him on her way out, “That’s right!” she shouts over her shoulder, and Bucky laughs. 

“How are you doing? Back home now?”

Steve makes an affirmative noise. “You don’t have to check up on me you know,” he says in a mildly reproachful tone. “I’m really okay.”

“Yeah, I get the impression you say that a lot.” Bucky sighs and pushes his fingers through his hair. He’s been rushing around all afternoon, the café unusually rammed, and he feels sticky and gross. “Steve look, I - I just like you, y’no? I like talking to you. And part of making conversation is asking after someone’s health. If you don’t wanna tell me, just don’t tell me.”

There’s a pause, then Steve lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m not - good at people fussing over me.”

“No problem, I’ll try not to do it.”

Steve laughs quietly. “Okay, don’t get mad but - it’s kinda nice when you do it. I mean, it’s irritating, but it’s nice that you want to.”

“Thanks, Captain Contradiction.”

“Shut it,” Steve says, laughter in his voice. “You got long left at work?”

“Couple hours. Gotta blast through my homework when I get in because we’re going out after work tomorrow, either celebrating or commiserating y’no?”

“Got much to do?”

“Nah, just some reading and I need to plan my essay.”

“Woah, plan?”

Bucky grins. “I know, I must be growing up.” He glances at the clock and swears. “Crap, I gotta get back to work soon.”

Steve sighs, then laughs. “Okay, thanks for talking to me again.”

“Hey, when I said call anytime, I meant it. Have a good day, yeah?”

“Yeah, you too. Bye, Bucky.”

\--

_**ohmysergeant** is online_

**ohmysergeant**  
I’m such an idiot

 **pictureofhealth**  
tell me something i don’t know

 **ohmysergeant**  
really?

 **pictureofhealth**  
sure 

**ohmysergeant**  
fine  
uhhhh  
did you know I lost my virginity at 15?

 **pictureofhealth**  
whaaaaa  
15???

 **ohmysergeant**  
WHAT IT’S NOT THAT WEIRD  
why when did you lose yours??

 **pictureofhealth**  
nope

 **ohmysergeant**  
you’re a virgin?

 **pictureofhealth**  
NO  
god  
last year :ohmysergeant  
okay but i still don’t know how old you are so that’s meaningless w/o context

 **pictureofhealth**  
augh  
i’m 23

 **ohmysergeant**  
woah you waited until you were 22??  
impressive

 **pictureofhealth**  
well 21 but yeah  
it was kinda half choice and half lack of opportunity

 **ohmysergeant**  
theres always opportunity if you look right, good for you on choosing to wait and sticking with it :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha thanks : >  
so i guess we’re having a Sex Chat now

 **ohmysergeant**  
phrasing

 **pictureofhealth**  
shhh

 **ohmysergeant**  
but yeah if that’s okay  
i uh  
did something really stupid

 **pictureofhealth**  
uh oh  
like tiny bucky clones stupid or a month of antibiotics stupid?

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh GOD  
NEITHER I HOPE  
no i just  
remember we were going for drinks? well it turned out to be celebration drinks which is great  
except I got fucking WRECKED and screwed my coworker D:  
WHO IS NOW MY MANAGER D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
oops

 **ohmysergeant**  
in my defence  
uh  
uhhhh  
no i got nothing

 **pictureofhealth**  
you gonna be in trouble?

 **ohmysergeant**  
god i hope not  
I don’t think she’s the type to bring it to work  
but she MIGHT kill me  
or worse, she might wanna keep doing it

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl that bad? :p

 **ohmysergeant**  
shit no, I haven’t been fucked like that in  
well, ever  
but she’s terrifying, and also my manager. it wouldn’t be a good idea.

 **pictureofhealth**  
so you’re not into her?

 **ohmysergeant**  
not like that no  
got someone else in my sights :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
uh huh  
why’d you sleep with your boss then

 **ohmysergeant**  
well she’s not exactly my boss

 **pictureofhealth**  
right because that’s the pertinent issue here

 **ohmysergeant**  
uh oh, bringing out the big words, it must be serious

 **pictureofhealth**  
you don’t think it’s serious?

 **ohmysergeant**  
um  
are you mad at me?

 **pictureofhealth**  
no?  
i gotta do some work tho, way behind with classes

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh okay  
hey Steve  
 _...typing_

_**pictureofhealth** is offline_

\--

Steve can’t put into words exactly why he’s so pissed at Bucky. At least, it feels like he can’t, but he’s been trying for over an hour and Sam is starting to look pretty pissed himself. 

“Okay, Steve, time out,” he says eventually, when Steve pauses to draw breath. “Why don’t you just ask the guy on a date already?”

“He wouldn’t wanna date me,” Steve says crossly, before he catches himself. His eyes go wide as Sam looks at him triumphantly. “I mean - I don’t even wanna date him, and even if I did I don’t know where he lives.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You’re the worst liar.”

“I really don’t!” Steve protests. “I mean I know he’s somewhere in Boston, but we didn’t swap addresses. And Boston is hours away.”

“Oh Jesus,” Sam says, in his I-can’t-believe-I’m-the-parent voice. “I mean you’re lying about being totally head over heels for him, stupid.”

Steve looks appropriately sheepish. “Oh.” He looks down at his drink sadly. “I don’t even really know him.”

“That’s the point of dating.” When Steve says nothing, Sam leans forward, forearms on the table. “When’s his birthday?”

“March twelfth.”

“What’s his favorite food?”

“Sam-” Steve starts, but Sam just glares at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s cherry pie.”

“He like baseball?”

“Yankees.”

Sam just spreads his hands and sits back with the look of someone who’s done his job well and expects one hell of a tip. Steve sinks in his chair and pokes at the remains of his breakfast with a fork. 

“Don’t worry so much,” Sam says gently. “You guys will work it out.”

“Yeah well first off I gotta apologize for being an ass.”

“You gonna explain it’s ‘cause you’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” Steve whines. “I’m - envious. He likes someone else and that’s fine. And you know I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“I know that.” Sam’s voice makes it very clear he doesn’t think it’s much of an excuse. “But refusing to date because of a chronic illness or disability is really dumb.”

Steve scowls at him. “Fuck you,” he says without heat.

“Fuck you, don’t make me recommend they put you back on citalopram.”

That gets Steve to smirk at him, just a little. “Threatening me with mind-altering drugs is definitely gonna get you fired.” Sam laughs, and Steve reluctantly joins in. “I know, I know. I’m a hopeless case.”

“No, you’re definitely not that,” Sam says, smiling at him. “You just need to believe in yourself a little more.”

“Sam, pretty much my whole life is online. You are literally my only friend and you’re paid to be here.”

“No, Steve,” Sam says. His voice trembles, and Steve looks up and is surprised to see that Sam looks really, genuinely angry, and he realizes he’s never actually seen that before. “That’s not why I’m here,” Sam says slowly, measuring out his words so that Steve will listen. He does. “I get paid to bring you homework and groceries and do a few household chores. I do not get paid to hang out with you and enjoy your company, okay? I do that because I like you, and you’re my best friend.”

Steve looks down at the table, twists his hands in his lap. “Thanks, Sam,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah, yeah, come on. We gotta get you to class.” But Sam reaches over and squeezes his shoulder, and Steve leans into it with a smile. 

\--

“Barnes.” Bucky looks up to find Brock trying to loom over him. He’s actually a little shorter than Bucky but he still does a good loom. Bucky tries not to be intimidated by it.

“What.” He and Brock get on fine but they’re not exactly _friends_.

“Why is Natasha mad at you?”

Bucky’s mouth goes dry, and his eyes flick involuntarily over to where Natasha is clearing tables in the corner. “I uh. We had an argument the other night.”

“Uh huh,” Brock drawls, looking unconvinced. They both look over at Natasha. She’s chatting to an elderly couple by the window, and it doesn’t look as if she has any idea they’re talking about her, but Bucky wouldn’t put anything past her. 

“Really, I shouldn’t talk about it,” Bucky says, aiming for careless and just missing. “It’s not a work thing, and she’s my manager. We need to work it out between us, get it?”

Brock shrugs, holding up his hands and shrugging. “Hey, I’m not digging for gossip,” he says, although he totally is, “I just don’t like hostile work environments, makes it pretty uncomfortable for _me_.”

“What’s uncomfortable?” They both start, and turn around to find Natasha watching them from the other side of the counter. “Something wrong, gentlemen?”

Bucky swallows. “Uh, Brock was just suggesting that I talk to you about some, uh - some work issues that have come up.”

He’s worried Natasha might roll her eyes or say something cutting, but she just nods curtly and gestures to the stockroom. “Brock, take care of these,” she says, dumping the tray of dirty cups on the counter. She stalks off towards the stockroom, and Bucky gives Brock a nervous backwards glance. Brock just smirks at him, and Bucky scowls. He knows _he_ wouldn’t be that gleeful about seeing a colleague get in trouble. Jerk. 

“What’s the problem?” Natasha asks, as soon as the door is shut behind them.

Bucky bites his lip. “Uh. About last week.”

Natasha smiles, and it’s a genuine smile, not even that terrifying. “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Like what?”

“Well, you seem really nervous considering we just had a one night stand. But unless you need to tell me about herpes or something, I don’t see that there’s a problem.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, uh. Nothing like that.”

“Fine. Everything else okay?”

“Huh?”

“At work, James. Is everything okay? I’m your manager, remember?”

“Oh, no. Everything’s fine.”

Natasha nods. “Fine. Back to work then.”

The rest of his shift passes in studious _not_ -awkwardness, though he keeps catching Brock looking between him and Natasha as though he’s waiting for a fight to break out. Bucky makes a mental note to stop being nice to him. When he finally leaves, he has a text from Steve.

**{I owe you an apology}**

**{you really don’t :)}**

**{no Buck really I was a jerk and im sorry}**  
 **{and you’re the one who told me friends shouldnt be dicks about who you sleep with and when and i was and it’s not cool i’m really sorry}**

**{STEVE really i did a stupid thing, you’re allowed to tell me it’s stupid :)}**  
 **{but, apology accepted}**

**{thank you : >}**

Bucky tucks his phone away with a smile. He’s not entirely sure why Steve’s even apologizing, but after two days of the silent treatment, he’s happy to take it if it means they’ll start talking again. He zips up his jacket against the wind and starts walking, but he can’t stop thinking about Steve, how he’d reacted. Bucky chews his lip, scraping his teeth against the chapped skin. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He pulls his phone out. 

**{Just so we’re clear, when I said I liked someone else, I meant you}**

He has to wait a few minutes, but eventually Steve replies.

**{you don’t even know what I look like :p}**

Bucky grins. 

**{I don’t care I know you’re gorgeous}**

Steve doesn’t reply to that, but Bucky doesn’t mind. When he gets online later that night, Steve is there and not ignoring him, and okay, they don’t talk about Steve freaking out or Bucky’s confession but they talk, and that’s okay for now. 

Clint still makes fun of him but that’s pretty par for the course.

\--

> To: Margaret Carter [m.l.carter@googlemail.com]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: no subject  
>  \--  
>  Hey <3
> 
> I love the new haircut :D pls find attached a photo of my hair which has not been cut in over a year. I know how much you love to be horrified by my personal grooming.
> 
> oh also I have a huge internet crush and I think it’s slowly killing me. p sure I mentioned to you that fanficcer I met? Bucky? Yeah he’s kind of amazing and really cute and I think he might maybe have a little crush on me too and I am freaking out. 
> 
> Also Sam is no help. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.
> 
> Miss you  
>  Sx

\--

It's about a week after Bucky's confession, in which Steve still hasn't brought it up and Bucky is too scared to, when something fucking incredible happens. Bucky has probably never been more annoyed at forgetting his phone than he is today, and by the time he gets home he’s just _bursting_ to tell Steve his news. He quickly gets changed, checks AIM and Skype, and scowls when Steve isn’t there. His phone is right where he left it on his pillow, and he scrambles onto the bed as he dials Steve.

“Hello?”

“Steve. Steve. Oh my god,” Bucky says breathlessly. “You would _not believe_ what happened today.”

Steve laughs down the phone at him. “Well it was big enough to warrant a phonecall so it must be good.”

“You weren’t online,” Bucky says dismissively, “and this can’t wait.”

Steve stifles a yawn. “Mm sorry, I was working at my desk and I fell asleep.”

“Bucky smiles fondly and sits back on the bed, derailed from his excitement for a moment by the thought of Steve passed out on his desk, cheek resting on his arm. “You should try sleeping in a bed once in a while.”

“So I hear.” He yawns again, before going on. “So what’s this incredible news?”

Bucky yelps with excitement. “Holy shit, so at work today, this guy comes in for coffee and he looks _so familiar_ so I’m there like _staring at him_ while Nat makes his macchiato, and suddenly I realized why he looked so familiar!” 

He left a dramatic pause, and he heard Steve laugh. “Yeah, and?”

“Steve. Remember that video you sent me, the steve/bucky pornalikes?”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, still sleepy but there’s no denying the urgency in his voice now. 

“It was totally that Steve guy! What’s his name again, J-something? Anyway it was him, I swear to god.”

“You’re making it up.”

“I swear! Fuck I almost had a heart attack.”

“What did you _say_?” Steve hisses, all the sleep burned out of his voice in honor of bubbling excitement.

Bucky groans and drops back against the pillows. “God, I was so dorky. I totally flirted with him and it was _not_ pretty.”

“And??”

“I think he flirted back a bit? Shit, Steve, he was so fucking hot, I don’t even remember what I said, although I’m pretty sure I didn’t mention porn?” He sighs and scratches absently at his stomach. “So now I can die happy.”

“Now you’ve met a pornstar? That’s a pretty lazy bucket list.”

Bucky grins. “Fuck you.”

“Did he smell good? I bet he smelled good.”

“Hmm,” Bucky says, pondering this. “I guess, I didn’t really get close enough to check. But I think he’d just come from the gym, so maybe not.”

Steve groans. “I kinda love that sweaty, post-workout stink on guys.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Wow, I learn something new about you every day.”

“Shut it,” Steve says, laughing self-consciously. “So tell me you wrote your number on his takeaway cup.”

“Duh, I’m not an idiot.”

Steve starts laughing louder. “Jury’s still out on that one, dude. Would an idiot be tying up his phone line when a beautiful pornstar might call him?”

For a moment Bucky pretends to think about it, then he smiles. “He can leave a message. I’m busy talking to the _real_ Steve Rogers.”

He hears a soft intake of breath on the other end, and he relaxes into his pillows again. “So, what’ll you do?” Steve asks gently. “When you get off the line and he’s left you a voicemail talking about how hot you are in your little barista apron.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Obviously, I’ll ask him to go for a drink.”

“Obviously,” Steve says sleepily. Or - not quite sleepy, but a little breathy, quiet.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, because sometimes he can’t help himself. Sometimes Steve doesn’t seem to mind being fussed over _too_ much.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Steve says, a smile in his voice. The sound of it is soft and warm and inviting. Bucky shuts his eyes. “I think I’d be too nervous to go home with someone like that.”

“Why nervous?”

“Just worried that I’d make a fool of myself,” Steve says, and Bucky is _sure_ he didn’t mishear that little hitch of breath just then. His mouth feels dry and he can hear his heart pumping in his throat. He doesn’t know if he’s right and he’s not gonna ask, but - he’s pretty sure Steve is touching himself right now. He takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself, but Steve is still talking. “I haven’t slept with that many people, y’no? What if I wasn’t very good. That’s like playing tennis with fucking Federer, I’d feel so stupid.”

Bucky makes a soothing noise, and absently presses his hand over his dick. It’s pushing uncomfortable against his jeans, trapped in an awkward position, and he flicks open the top two buttons so he can adjust himself. “It’s different when you really like someone,” he says, sighing a little in relief when he gets the buttons unfastened and the pressure eases. “Then you’re not really thinking about technique so much, y’no? Just about being close to that person, about touching them all over.”

“Jesus,” Steve whispers, so quiet it almost isn’t there, but Bucky is certain he heard it, and he’s pushing his hand inside his boxers before he knows it and letting out a soft, relieved groan. “Oh jesus,” Steve whispers again, a little louder this time, “how would you - what would you do?”

Bucky groans again, definitely audible this time, and unfastens the rest of the buttons on his jeans so he actually has space to move. “I guess I’d start by kissing him. Seems polite to start there, right?”

“Uh huh,” Steve mutters, his voice somehow still carrying a hint of irony. 

“But I’d move it along pretty quick, although I’d keep on kissing him as long as I could because I love making out.”

“Oh - oh yeah?”

“Yeah, one of my favourite things, I could make out all night.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve murmurs, which sends a thrill right through him. “I um-” Steve begins, then hesitates, sounding shy. “I know I told you I didn’t have sex until last year but - that doesn’t mean I never did anything before, y’no?”

“Nuh uh,” Bucky grits out, as he shudders hard with a wave of need. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

Steve laughs then, harsh and dirty. “I thought you were telling _me_ something.”

“Just a hint, come on,” Bucky pleads, voice slipping into a whine. 

Steve makes a thoughtful noise, which vaguely sounds like a moan. “Shit, okay, uh - first blowjob I had was at seventeen, at a party, from a guy on the football team.”

“Nice, dude,” Bucky says, laughing a little. “That your first time with anyone?”

“Uh huh - oh god-” Steve bites back a groan. “Your turn.”

“Okay, okay. Well, while we’re making out, I’d get him undressed, nice and slow,and then I would definitely wanna get my mouth on his dick, I fucking love giving head-”

Steve moans loudly, a sound almost like a sob, all pretence forgotten now. They are definitely having fucking phone sex. Bucky’s not quite sure how it happened but he hasn’t the slightest intention of stopping it. 

“I bet you’re amazing at it,” Steve moans, and Bucky strains to hear more, but it’s just him and Steve’s labored breathing.

He laughs and grips himself a little harder, moves his hand faster, trying to imagine Steve’s hand on him instead of his own. “I am pretty amazing. Independent sources have confirmed it.”

“Sure there was no bias?” Steve mutters in a dangerous voice, even as he sounds like he’s coming apart. “Maybe I should verify it for myself.”

The words take a moment to sink in, and when they do, Bucky is stunned by the force of it, orgasm barrelling through him. He curls into himself, choking down a flurry of embarrassing noises and chanting out “ _fuck fuck fuck_ ” under his breath.

Steve whimpers at the other end of the line, and a cry rips loose from him, surprisingly loud until he cuts it off self-consciously. 

Bucky lies back on the bed, and wipes his hand on his comforter, pulling a face. “Christ, Steve,” he says, chest heaving. “You are full of surprises.”

Which is exactly the moment Steve hangs up.


	5. Never Gonna Give You Up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: chapter contains sad holiday season feels :x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it, you can now read Bucky's skinny!Steve d/s fic from Chapter 2 :D - [Take Me to Wyoming](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2379083)
> 
> (also, please don't hurt me, Steve is coming around, just give him a little more time <3)

_**notjustaprettyfist** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
Peggyyyyyyy  <3

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Hello there sweetheart.  
How’re you doing?

 **pictureofhealth**  
shit D:

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Oh no!  
Good thing I’m up late, tell me what’s going on.

 **pictureofhealth**  
aauguhh remember I told you about that guy  
the writer guy

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Your real life Bucky crush? 

**pictureofhealth**  
yes :/  
so we uh  
maybe just had phone sex

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
What!  
Steve!

 **pictureofhealth**  
and then i maybe panicked and hung up

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
What happened??

 **pictureofhealth**  
jfc I'm an idiot  
we were talking about some hot dude he saw at work and I just  
the way he talked about him, I wanted it to be me  
I didn't fuckin think

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
You really like him, don't you?

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah :/  
I really REALLY like him

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Have you told him?

 **pictureofhealth**  
noooooo

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Might be a good place to start?

 **pictureofhealth**  
idk if I can do that  
he's p much the only friend I have bar you and Sam  
I don't wanna screw that up

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
I understand sweetie :(

 **pictureofhealth**  
anyway maybe he's really gross in person : >

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
You don't know what he looks like?  
And you love him anyway?

 **pictureofhealth**  
of course

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Mmm.

 **pictureofhealth**  
wait  
shit  
SHIT  
I'm in love with him?  
oh god I am

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Yup.

 **pictureofhealth**  
D:  
Peggyyyyyyy

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Okay, let's table that for a moment.  
How are things otherwise?

 **pictureofhealth**  
pretty good  
drowning in schoolwork but when am I not? :p

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
How are you feeling?

 **pictureofhealth**  
ugh you're as bad as Sam! :p I'm fine, really.  
i’m managing  
how about you?

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
I’m fine. 

**pictureofhealth**  
uh huh  
how’s politics?

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Total fucking bullshit.  
Wish I’d stayed with you and started a commune.

 **pictureofhealth**  
nah you don’t : >

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Just a little bit :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
well you can’t get decent medical coverage in a commune so i’d be screwed

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
You can’t get it working freelance either.  
Seriously, you should think about trying to find a job with a studio.

 **pictureofhealth**  
i know i know  
i gotta get through this semester first

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Sam would help you with the applications.

 **pictureofhealth**  
I know : >  
I will do it, i just have too much going on right now

 **notjustaprettyfist** pictureofhealth  
idk  
i’ll work something out

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Please promise me you won’t avoid him at least.  
Even if you don’t tell him how you feel, don’t shut him out.  
You’ve been a lot happier since you started talking to him.

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh god don’t tell me that  
that makes it worse

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Don’t be an idiot, Rogers :p

 **pictureofhealth**  
it comes naturally

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
No, it doesn’t.  
Okay sweetie, I really have to get some rest I’m afraid. Long day tomorrow.

 **pictureofhealth**  
thanks for listening  <3 

**notjustaprettyfist**  
That’s what I do  <3  
Love you

 **pictureofhealth**  
love you too

_**notjustaprettyfist** is offline_

\--

_DISCARDED DRAFTS_

> To: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: SORRY :(  
>  \--  
>  Bucky,  
>  I’m really fucking sorry about last night. It was totally unfair to push you into that, I just wasn’t thinking and
> 
>  
> 
> To: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: I’m a jerk  
>  \--  
>  I’m a jerk because I made you listen to me jerk off instead of just telling you how i felt. I haven’t felt like this about someone before and I’m fucking terrified.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: no subject  
>  \--  
>  I’m in love with you. I’m sorry.

_SENT EMAILS_

> To: Sgt Barnes  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb  
>  Subject: olive branch  
>  \--  
>  [image attached]

\--

Bucky gets the email while he’s sitting in his Critical & Cultural Studies class, and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to pull out his phone and check. In a lecture he’d get away with it, but in group tutorial, not a chance, and his professor is _really_ strict about cell phones. He risks a very quick glance, which confirms that he has an email from Steve. If anything, knowing only makes it worse.

For the next thirty minutes, Bucky twitches in his seat and comes up with hundreds of excuses for leaving class early and doesn't use any of them, meanwhile trying to write down every word he actually catches of the discussion, which isn’t a lot. As soon as class is over, he bolts, ignoring Clint’s indignant shout behind him, and fumbles his phone out. 

There’s no message in the email, just a subject and a picture. Steve has doodled him a little Captain America holding a sign that says ‘SORRY :(‘

Bucky texts him right away. 

**{ty for the picture :) can we talk later?}**

To his delight, Steve replies immediately, but it’s not the response he was hoping for.

**{sry out w/ friend tonight. maybe tomorrow?}**

**{okay have a good time :) }  
{and just so you know, no apology needed}**

Bucky puts his phone away, not really expecting a reply, though it doesn’t stop him being disappointed when he doesn’t get one. He trudges to the library with a scowl fixed on his face. He can’t stand the thought that Steve regrets what they did, but even if he _does_ , Bucky wishes he would talk to him about it. The thought of not talking to Steve again makes his stomach seize horribly. He tries to push it down and focus on his homework instead, even if it’s easier said than done. At least Freud and the Uncanny is distracting enough to hold his attention for a while, even if he finds his hand drifting to the phone in his pocket more than once. 

When he finally drags himself home, Clint is on the couch in his underwear, scowling at a textbook. “Where’d you go?” he asks Bucky in an accusing tone. 

“Library.”

“Uh huh. Thought we were gonna catch a movie.”

Bucky slaps a hand over his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. It totally slipped my mind.” He drops his bag with a groan. “I’m kinda preoccupied.”

Clint tosses his book aside and sits up. “It’s that guy, isn’t it?”

“What guy?”

“Um, the one you talk about _all the time_?” he says, looking at Bucky like he might have been dropped on his head. “Steve this, Steve that, Steve’s the best, Steve’s ass is made of solid gold-”

“We had sex,” Bucky snarls, cutting him off.

“Huh?”

“On the phone,” Bucky says slowly. “We had sex over the phone last night, and now I think he hates me.”

Clint’s eyes widen. “Shit, dude. You’re in deep.”

“No shit.” Clint makes a space, and Bucky drops onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “I really like him,” he says sadly, with the air of a forlorn teenager. 

“Where’s he live?”

“No idea,” Bucky says, making a face. “I mean, he’s in the same timezone at least, but that doesn’t mean much.”

“He might live around the corner!” Clint says, punching his shoulder. “You gotta ask.”

“Yeah, and he might live in Miami.”

Clint shrugs. “That’s not so far.”

Bucky groans and puts his feet up on the couch so he can kick Clint in the shin. “You suck.”

“I am literally being your agony aunt right now, I’m the best friend you have.”

“You’re the only friend I have.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “Dramatic. What about those losers you work with?”

Bucky sighs and stretches out, nudging Clint out of the way. He doesn’t complain, but living with Clint is a lot like living with a big lazy dog, so it’s not surprising. He just waits until Bucky gets comfortable and settles in around him. “They hate me,” Bucky says, shrugging. “I mean - Brock has always hated me, but Natasha seems to have started hating me since we had sex.”

“Did you ever call her?”

“Trust me, she didn’t want me to.”

“Did you _ask_?”

Bucky cringes. “Not exactly.”

“Your self-destructive tendencies are getting worse, you know that right?” 

Bucky lets his head fall back with a groan. “Why couldn’t I just fall in love with some nice Boston girl who likes the Yankees?” Clint punches his thigh, and Bucky yelps. “What the hell, dude?”

“The Yankees, Barnes? _Really?_ ” 

“Oops?” Bucky says, grinning at him. 

Clint tackles him off the couch, and they wrestle in the wreckage of Clint’s homework for a few minutes before they pick themselves up and decide to go out to a movie after all, as “I’m not leaving you around here to mope all night” is a statement Bucky can get behind. Also, he’s too busy being grateful that Clint doesn’t pick up on the part about falling in love.

\--

_**ohmysergeant** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
there you are :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
sorry  
long day  
you okay? :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
i mean  
i’ve been worse  
but i’m p sure I was a dick to my best friend the other night and idk how to fix it

 **ohmysergeant**  
shit you’ve been busy  
who’s the lucky person?

 **pictureofhealth**  
ha ha

 **ohmysergeant**  
no really though. I’m your best friend? :3

 **pictureofhealth**  
well, yeah  
*blush*

 **ohmysergeant**  
no blushing!  
I am flattered  
MORE THAN flattered  
:) 

**pictureofhealth**  
so uh  
I’m a jerk and I’m really really sorry and please please don’t hate me  
it won’t happen again

 **ohmysergeant**  
it won’t?

 **pictureofhealth**  
no omg I feel like such an idiot  
I just got caught up in the dumb flirting and the stucky feels and I’m sorry :( :(  
I’m so embarrassed

 **ohmysergeant**  
hey no, it’s cool  
shit happens  
and hey, it wasn’t too traumatic, right?

 **pictureofhealth**  
of course not!  
your dirty talk has come far

 **ohmysergeant**  
L O L

 **pictureofhealth**  
I’m so proud

 **ohmysergeant**  
something to tell my grandkids :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
AWKWARD

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh yeah didn’t think that one through

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay I wanna ask you a question  
and you can totally say no but  
idk I just  
fuck it

 **pictureofhealth**  
Bucky, what?

 **ohmysergeant**  
where do you live?  
i mean i’m not asking for your address but

 **pictureofhealth**  
no it’s okay  
I live in New York

 **ohmysergeant**  
:)  
thanks for telling me

 **pictureofhealth**  
no I should have before  
I trust you, Bucky

 **ohmysergeant**  
thanks :x

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay so tell me what you’ve been up to I feel like we haven’t talked in ages

 **ohmysergeant**  
yeah yeah I know you just like to hear about my crazy coffee shop patrons

 **pictureofhealth**  
literally the only thing I come back for

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay well you’re in for a treat

\--

Things go back to normal after that. They’re both wrapped up in schoolwork leading up to the Christmas break, while Bucky’s trying to finish off the final edits to his story on the side. Their posting date is New Year’s Day, and while Steve’s had the art ready for weeks, he keeps insisting on changing little bits and pieces to make it _perfect_. He doesn’t take the slightest bit of notice when Bucky assures him that it already is. 

Bucky’s so preoccupied that it doesn’t occur to him to ask Steve what he’s doing for Christmas, not until Steve brings it up, and then he feels like a complete jerk.

**{Think I’m gonna be stuck in NYC this xmas :/}**

**{where you normally go?}**

**{the past two years i stayed with sam’s family}**

“Shit,” Bucky whispers under his breath, remembering too late that Steve’s mom died two years earlier. 

**{not going this year?}**

**{well they asked but i think i’ll be too busy with deadlines :/ gonna be home alone haha}  
{what are you doing?}**

**{ahh just family stuff. my sisters birthday is boxing day so xmas is a p big deal}**  
 **{gonna be in nyc for a couple days with some friends though :D}**  
 **{maybe we could hang out??}**

**{yeah maybe!}**

**{okay I’ll let you know}**

He sighs as he puts his phone away again. It’s as close to a brush off as you can get, but maybe he can talk Steve round later. Bucky’s not really kidding himself that anything’s ever gonna happen between them, but the more he talks to Steve, the less he gives a shit about talking to anyone else. And now that he knows where Steve lives, knows how close he is - he knows he’s gotta _try_.

\--

> To: Margaret Carter [m.l.carter@googlemail.com]  
>  From: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  Subject: no subject  
>  \--  
>  P,
> 
> How’s it going gorgeous? :) I got your postcards the other day, cannot believe you got paid to go to Milan! Next time you go you’d better take me along. Oh I love the new haircut by the way, it really suits you!
> 
> So I have a dilemma. Bucky and his friends are coming to NYC for new years and he wants to meet up :/ I told him maybe but idk if it’s a good idea. Pretty sure we’d only end up disappointing each other y’no? Surely it’s better to just keep it friendly right? Maybe I could tell him that I ended up going to Sam’s after all, white lies are a fundamental part of the soft let down. Or so I heard. God I just don’t want him to hate me.
> 
> jfc sorry I swear all I do is complain to you. Let me know how you’re getting on, it feels like we haven’t talked properly in ages. And send me your new address, I have something for you!
> 
> Love,  
>  Sx

\--

**{MEERY CRISTMHAS**

**{ONE MINUTE past midnight bucky that’s impressive :D}**  
 **{also i think you need to lay off the eggnog}**

**{never}**  
 **{ilu sleep steeb tihgt}**

**{merry christmas buck <3}**

\-- 

Steve’s never spent Christmas on his own before, not once. There were a couple of years, when he was ten and twelve, where his mother had to cover a shift at the hospital, but she always made sure they would spend at least some of the day together. When she had to leave, she’d take him to stay with Mrs Robichek across the hall, where he’d eat spice cookies and watch Home Alone, and help her paint murals on her living room wall. Steve had looked Mrs Robichek up the winter his mom died, but she’d passed away a couple of years earlier. He couldn’t help feeling sad knowing that their murals would have been painted over. 

He wakes up late on his first Christmas morning alone, and while he still misses the mayhem of Sam’s parents’ house, it’s kind of nice to be on his own timetable. When he checks his phone, he’s surprised to find a series of texts from Bucky, who he expected would still be dead to the world. 

******{name 2 thigns that dont mix well with xmas}**  
 **{gdi are you sleeping u traitor}**  
 **{k ill tell you: eggnog hangover, 12yo sisters and 6am}**  
 **{puking on a minor on xmas is the best and worst thing ive ever done fyi}**

Steve smiles fondly and curls up tighter under his comforter. It still makes him a little sad and wistful when Bucky talks about his family, but he’s glad Bucky has great parents, and a sister he can puke on. Steve always wanted a brother or sister, but his mom always said she was never gonna find another guy as great as him or his dad. He could remember every single guy she’d dated, because there had been so few. What with taking care of him through myriad childhood illnesses and working fifty-sixty hour weeks, it was amazing they’d got through at all. 

Sometimes he forgets what she looked like, and he has to close his eyes tight to remember. He pulls his pillow into his arms and curls around it. He’s determined not to be upset today; she wouldn’t want that. Burying his face in the pillow, Steve takes a few deep breaths to steady himself, then he rolls over to reply to Bucky’s texts. 

**{eggnog hangover and puking on minors are both on christmas bingo - going for a full house?}**

**{definitely}**  
 **{while you were snoozing i checked off drinking before noon, insulting relatives and watched it’s a wonderful life. up your game, punk}**

**{nuh uh not me, i’m christmas-free this year}**  
 **{i do have a present for you though : >}**

**{FOR ME?? :D}**

****{sure, let me know when you’re free to hop online and I can send it to you}** **

****{OMG GIVE ME 30 MINS}** **

While Bucky is off doing Christmas things, Steve takes a quick shower and gets dressed in some clean sweats, a t-shirt and hoodie. It’s freezing out but the sun is shining, and he wants to take a walk while he’s feeling up to it. Sam’s left him a self-care checklist, and he’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t follow it. 

\- FEED YOURSELF. At least one meal a day (must include fruit and/or vegetables)  
\- If the sun is out, go outside. If you can’t go outside, sit by the window.  
\- Drink some herbal tea, no more coffee! 

The list goes on like that, in Sam’s thoughtful handwriting. Steve can’t help wondering how often Sam follows his own advice. He suspects it’s not nearly as often as he should. 

Bucky isn’t there when Steve signs on, so he doodles for a few minutes until Bucky shows up. 

\-- 

**ohmysergeant**  
DECK the halls with boughs of steebus  
falalalalalalalala  
TIS the season to meet jeebus  
falalalalalalalala 

**pictureofhealth**  
pmsl oh god you are such a dork  
: >

**ohmysergeant**  
<3 i’m kinda drunk 

**pictureofhealth**  
no shit 

**ohmysergeant**  
s’okay turkey soon  
it’ll absorb all the aclhol 

**pictureofhealth**  
haha okay  
so you want your present? 

**ohmysergeant**  
yesSsssssSSSSS  
STEEB  
SO MUCH 

**pictureofhealth**  
:p 

**_pictureofhealth_** is sending a file

 **ohmysergeant**  
what  
WHAAT  
shit, dude. this is. shit.  
you drew this just for me??

 **pictureofhealth**  
of course  <3

 **ohmysergeant**  
:’)  
it’s  
fuck, it’s amazing, thank you  
their expressions are just  
wow

 **pictureofhealth**  
:D I’m so glad you like it

 **ohmysergeant**  
this is the BEST present i’ve ever had

 **pictureofhealth**  
*blush*  
merry christmas, Buck :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
hey, call me when you’re going to bed, okay?  
my present to you is I’m gonna read to you some more  
uh I mean  
if you want that

 **pictureofhealth**  
I would love that

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay good :D  
i gotta take a pre-turkey nap  
talk later x

\--

Once Steve starts walking, he doesn’t really want to stop. The pavements are icy and it’s bitterly cold, but he wraps up warm with a hat, scarf and gloves along with his winter coat. There are still plenty of people about, but compared to a regular weekday, the city feels deserted. Steve walks for about an hour, before he finds a diner that’s open, and ducks inside for a coffee. Sam can just take a hike. Steve will even cook himself some vegetables if that’s what it takes; he’s not ditching coffee.

He pulls his phone out and sends Peggy a message. 

**{Merry Christmas, Carter :) Skype?}**

**{Oh god, yes, get me away from these lunatics.}**

**{I’m out right now - give me 45?}**

**{Not a minute longer or I’m going to smother someone with wrapping paper.}**

Steve grins and drinks his coffee quickly, warming his hands on the cup. He’s been walking in a circle so he’s not that far from his apartment, and he takes a short detour on his way back to pass by some stores with Christmas displays in the windows. One of the few memories he has of his father is being taken shopping on Christmas Eve, holding on tight to gloved fingers to avoid being carried away by the crowds. He remembers red lights and a Christmas tree so tall he couldn’t see the top. When he passes a store with a Christmas tree decorated with red lights, he hesitates and stares at it for several minutes. Eventually he reaches out, pulling his glove off so he can lay his palm against the cold glass. 

“Merry Christmas, Momma,” he whispers, breath misting in front of his face. “You too, Dad.”

He holds his hand there for another minute, until the chill starts to spread up his arm. He quickly pulls his glove back on and keeps walking. 

Peggy is already waiting when he gets home and logs in to Skype. He calls her straight away, breaking into a grin as soon as her face flashes up on the screen. 

“Hey,” he says, reaching up to pull his hat off.

“Hey yourself,” she says, before laughing at his hair. “You need a haircut.”

Steve smiles and puts his hand up to ruffle his hair self-consciously. “Yeah, probably.”

“Thank you for the book, it came a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah, I saw it and I thought of you.”

Peggy grins and props her chin on her hand. “How are you, Steve? You look well.”

He shrugs, and they chat about work and school and Peggy’s family for a while, catching up on all the little things they don’t get time to share anymore. Seeing Peggy is the thing that finally brings home his loneliness, and he has to bite his lip at one point to stop himself from wanting to cry. 

“Steve, sweetheart,” Peggy says, noticing at once. “Why aren’t you at Sam’s house this year?”

He takes a shuddering breath and smiles crookedly. “I wanted to do it on my own, see if I could.”

She frowns at him. “Is this something to do with Bucky?”

Steve looks up sharply, but Peggy just looks back at him with her calm, steady gaze that he knows sees every inch of him, inside and out. Peggy’s the only person he’s ever trusted with his heart and she’s kept it well, but she’s brutal when she needs to be. Especially when Steve can’t ask for it. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Steven Rogers.” Surprise makes him laugh out loud, and Peggy quirks the corner of her mouth. “I think you should give him a chance.”

Steve shakes his head. “I want to, I’m just - I’m not ready.”

“Since when were you scared of anything?”

He smiles bitterly. “I’m scared all the time, you know that.”

“Mm, and when have you ever let it stopped you?”

Steve sighs and presses his lips together. He’s starting to feel too warm now, and he realizes he still has his coat on and quickly shrugs it off. 

“Steve,” Peggy says gently. Steve stops worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth and sighs heavily. 

“I know, I know. It’s just not - it’s not the right time.”

Peggy nods. “Okay. But it never will be if you just keep waiting.”


	6. Don't mention the war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Bucky/OMC in this one but it's all about the Steve/Bucky feels. Oh, is it ever. Buckle your seatbelts.

Bucky’s not sure how he gets nominated for the drive. It’s more a case of last man standing, after Clint admits he lost his license over the summer, and Kate and America have already started drinking. 

“Who calls their kid America anyway?” Clint says over his shoulder, feeding an argument that has been building for the past hour, and that Bucky has been studiously ignoring. 

“Who calls their kid Clint?” America shoots back. “What the fuck are you supposed to be, a piece of rock?”

“That’s a flint,” Kate says in a bored voice, all her focus on her 3DS.

“I know that, Princess,” America says, just as Clint starts rambling about the circus. 

“Aw jeez, not this again,” Kate says, and Bucky catches her rolling her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Fuck you Tom Nook.”

Despite appearances, America and Clint get on pretty well, and as far as Bucky can tell, they don’t have any problems sharing Kate when she’s in the mood for one or the other of them. Kate and America just seem to be best friends who had the sense to start banging when the mood takes them, and Bucky has a lot of respect for how easy they seem to make it. He tried asking Clint about it once, about whether he really minded, but Clint had just shrugged and said, “She knows I’m here when she needs me.” At first, Bucky had thought that Clint didn’t care, or didn’t respect himself enough or _something_ , and maybe that’s a little part of it, but really, Clint’s just really fucking laid back, and he trusts Kate to know what she needs. Bucky’s learned to appreciate that.

“Can we pull over soon?” Kate asks, still engrossed in her game. “I really gotta pee.”

“Sure thing honey,” Bucky says, ignoring Clint’s eyeroll. Okay, maybe Clint’s not smart _all_ the time. Bucky’s had a girlfriend. If she says she needs to pee, the one thing you do not do is tell her she should’ve gone before you left. They drive the next ten miles in a stony silence, at which point Kate and America both vanish into the women’s bathroom together.

“You know they’re probably having sex in there, right?” Bucky says. Clint has four twizzlers stuck in his mouth, and he just shrugs, as if to say, _What can you do?_ Bucky laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “You can pay for the gas.” While they’re all preoccupied, Bucky goes to buy himself a soda and texts Steve.

**{I remembered why I have fandom: I hate all my friends}**

**{they can’t be that bad if you’re coming to NYC together :p}**

**{one hour on the road has reminded me why they’re terrible}**  
 **{don’t be surprised if I show up on your doorstep with a trunk full of body parts}**

**{np i have a shovel}**

“So, are you meeting your boy?” Clint asks once they’re back on the road.

Kate and America both sit up and start paying attention at this point. They’re flushed and giggling, and Bucky can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s whatever they got up to in the bathroom. Probably both. “James!” Kate yelps, sitting forward in her seat. “You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell us?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Bucky says, sighing. 

“I bet you’re just being quietly in love with him, aren’t you?” America says. Bucky catches her eye in the mirror and she raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you had bigger balls than that, Barnes.”

“Nah, he has average-sized balls.” Clint gestures the size with his hands. 

“God, shut up,” Bucky says, at the same time as America asks, “You’ve seen his balls?” 

Bucky bursts out laughing. “Look, I’m not in love with him. We just talk online a lot, and he happens to live in New York.”

“So, we’re going to see him, right?” Kate demands. There’s a yelp as America punches her. “I mean, _you_ are going to see him.”

Bucky shakes his head. “He’s shy, and we kinda had a fight a few weeks ago-”

“-it wasn’t a fight,” Clint interrupts.

“-and I don’t think he wants to meet up.”

“What kind of fight isn’t a fight?” America says, looking between them. 

“Oh my god you guys had sex or something, right?” Kate shouts. 

“Ow, Kate,” Clint snaps, tossing a rude gesture at her. “Volume!” 

“Clint told me you totally had cybersex with some guy! Was it him?”

America snorts. “Gross.”

Bucky scowls over at Clint. “You tell everybody about that?” Clint just shrugs and offers a crooked grin.

They all fall back into bickering good-naturedly, arguing over the radio station and what they’re gonna do in the city. Kate’s aunt is lending them her apartment while she’s on vacation, with the strict agreement that they don’t have any parties or trash anything. Bucky secretly thinks there must be a private agreement between her and Kate about not having sex in the kitchen or anything, but that’s only because he lives with Clint and he’s learned to be wary, and also handy with a wet wipe. Just in case. 

\--

 **ohmysergeant**  
so, I’m not gonna force the issue  
but I am sitting in an apartment in Manhattan right now  
and i’m so fat from christmas  
I know you liked me best in my unevolved chubby teenage form ;D

 **pictureofhealth**  
it’s true, you were never as awesome when you evolved into Buckizard

 **ohmysergeant**  
that’s a vicious lie  
but i’ll let it slide this once

 **pictureofhealth**  
: >  
I’m sorry Bucky I just  
it’s not about you in particular i’m just super uncomfortable meeting people from the internet  
and people in general

 **ohmysergeant**  
I get that, I just figured you know me a little better by now

 **pictureofhealth**  
that’s not fair

 **ohmysergeant**  
no, I’m sorry  
okay look  
it’s new years, our story goes up tomorrow  
are you sure i can’t tempt you to come dancing with me tonight?  
just for a little bit?

 **pictureofhealth**  
well, dancing isn't really my thing  
two left feet.

 **ohmysergeant**  
we don't have to actually dance :p

 **pictureofhealth**  
you know my doctor yelled at me for drinking, right? so, that’s off the cards

 **ohmysergeant**  
Haha okay steeb  
I can take a hint

 **pictureofhealth**  
sry dude :/  
I guess new years just feels like a bit much.

 **ohmysergeant**  
it’s okay :)  
really it is  
I hope you at least have a cute teddy to kiss at midnight.

 **pictureofhealth**  
o yea :p

 **ohmysergeant**  
I gotta get ready  
the drinking starts soon :/  
(help me)

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha nobody can help you now!  
have a good night dude, be safe  
and happy new year!

 **ohmysergeant**  
you too stevie!

_**ohmysergeant** is offline_

\--

“Having a crush is hard,” Clint says as he pushes a beer into Bucky’s hand. The last thing Bucky wants to do it put the guilt trip on Steve, but he can’t deny he’s a little hurt by the flat out rejection. 

He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs loudly. “You think maybe I should give up?”

Clint puts an arm around his shoulders. “Hell no. Maybe you should send him some dick pics. Get straight to the point, y’no?”

Bucky snorts with laughter, and coughs loudly when beer gets up his nose. “Yeah, real romantic.”

“Shit, I didn’t know this was about romance.” Clint slaps his shoulder and grins. “Don’t worry dude, we’re gonna get you trashed and you’re gonna forget about your heartache for one night.”

“I dunno-”

“Chavez! Bring the shots!”

Bucky protests, but Clint holds him down and tickles him until he agrees to be inebriated. “Good boy,” Clint says, when Bucky shouts his surrender, and gives him a sloppy, scratchy kiss. Bucky pushes him off, laughing and wiping at his mouth. 

“Dammit, Clint!” he yells, cackling. “Please tell me that’s the first and _last_ time.”

Clint flashes him a sultry look. “Not if you play your cards right.”

Three shots each and one cab ride later, they finally make it to the club. It’s hot and heaving, the atmosphere wild, and Bucky feels adrenaline run through his body. He tries to ignore the little part of him that wants to be curled up in bed with Steve’s voice on the other end of a phoneline. 

"Time to dance Jimmy boy."

Bucky laughs as he's propelled onto the dancefloor. Clint and Kate are notoriously awful at dancing, practically lethal in some memorable cases, and Bucky has learned to steer well clear. Luckily, America grabs him by the wrist and hauls him in to dance, bumping his hip with her own and laughing. They dance for a couple of songs, then she nudges him and points out a guy nearby who's _definitely_ checking them out. She yells something to Bucky he doesn't quite catch, but is fairly sure is unrepeatable for reasons of decency, and disappears into the crowd to find her own entertainment.

The guy doesn't seem to mind that she's gone. He edges through the crowd to Bucky and gives him a filthy grin. He's pretty cute: tall and muscular with short, dark blond hair, and his clothes are _really_ tight. He slips around behind Bucky, who laughs and leans back against him.

The guy's hands curl around his hips and pull him in tight and he feels a surge of delight that this guy has chosen _him_ to dance with. It’ll have to make up for the fact that Steve’s not here. 

“I'm Glen!” the guy shouts over the music.

“Ja - Bucky!” he shouts back.

“Get you a drink?”

Bucky nods vigorously and grabs one of Glen's arms to lead him over to the bar. It takes them about ten minutes of standing in line and trying to reach the front by the time they manage to order a drink, and in the meantime they make some minimal conversation, as much as they can when they’re yelling at the top of their lungs. Glen lives in New York, works as a personal trainer, and wants to stick his tongue down Bucky's throat. 

He leans in close, a possessive arm around Bucky’s waist, and brushes the hair out of his eyes. Bucky swallows hard, then he glances at his phone. "It's almost eleven," he says, grinning. "Can you wait another hour?"

Glen smiles and runs his fingers down the side of Bucky's neck. "Sure." He turns to the bartender and orders a beer, then turns to Bucky with an expectant look. Bucky grins and holds up two fingers, and Glen looks back to the bartender. "Two please!"

They drink and chat for a while in a comparatively quiet corner, then they get up to dance again. Bucky spots Kate and America at one point, dancing either side of Clint, and they both give him a thumbs up along with a bunch of more obscene gestures. Bucky tries really hard not to think about Clint sandwiched between the two of them. It doesn’t help that he knows what they all sound like in bed. 

Glen is all hands, his palms sitting possessively on Bucky's hips, or grabbing his ass to pull him in close. At some point Bucky's hair comes loose and Glen runs his fingers through it while he grinds up against Bucky's hip. He's half-hard in his fucking skintight jeans and Bucky lets out a quiet moan when Glen turns him around and rubs up against his ass while they dance. 

"God, Bucky," he growls, clasping his fingers lightly around Bucky's throat for a second, and growling low in his ear. "I wanna take you home and fuck you stupid." 

It makes him shudder, getting hard in his pants, but he can't help thinking of Steve. Nobody's ever called him Bucky in real life except for Steve, and it's hot but also somehow wrong to have this beautiful stranger doing it. Glen's intentions with him are pretty clear, and while Bucky isn't opposed in principle, he's never bottomed before and he's dimly aware that doing it while drunk with a stranger might not be the best start. 

He untangles himself from Glen for a minute to catch his breath. “I should find my friends!” he yells, “for the ball drop!” 

Glen shrugs amenably, and Bucky checks his phone. It's three minutes to midnight, and he has a text from Steve. He looks up at Glen, who has a jaw like a fucking slab of marble and could probably snap him in half - in a good way or a bad way he's not sure, maybe both - then he looks down at his phone again. 

**{I think maybe you were right, new years is boring with just a teddy to smooch. Happy New Year Buck <3}**

Bucky only hesitates a split second before he turns towards the exit and runs. He smashes into more than a few dancers, shouting apologies over his shoulder. He has no idea if Glen is behind him. Just as he makes it to the exit, he hears the countdown start, and he dials Steve's number. 

_Nine_

_Eight_

_Seven_

"Come on Steve, come on."

_Five_

_Four_

_Three_

"Fuck shit balls."

_One_

"Bucky?"

Bucky laughs and cradles the phone to his ear with both hands as noise erupts around him. "Happy New Year!" he shouts into the phone, grinning when he hears Steve's laughter in response.

"Shouldn't you be kissing someone?" Steve asks wryly, still laughing.

Bucky just grins. "I've got you."

"You're drunk."

"I really like you, Steve."

There’s a pause, then Steve lets out a heavy sigh. "I really like you too, Bucky."

"Can you see the fireworks from where you are?"

Steve laughs. "I can see _some_ fireworks."

"Cool, those are all from me. A kiss for each firework."

"You're so cheesy."

"Yeah maybe, but at least I'm sincere."

"Thanks for calling, Bucky."

"Well I had to find out how it ended between you and that teddy."

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna wait for you, Steve. I’ll wait until you’re ready and then I wanna meet you and see if there’s something here.”

“Bucky-”

Before he hears Steve's response, the phone is ripped out of his hand. He stares at it for a moment, bewildered, then he looks round in surprise, expecting to see Clint. There are two guys he doesn't recognize standing behind him. They look about sixteen or seventeen, just a little taller than him, and they don’t look friendly.

"Guys, I need that back," he says, trying for a smile. "Cmon, just give it back." 

They laugh and shake their heads. "Got any cash?"

Bucky scowls at them. "Who the fuck carries cash on New Years?"

One of them punches him. If he wasn't quite so drunk he might’ve ducked in time. As it is, he slams back against the wall, hitting his head against the bricks.

"Son of a bitch," he groans, grabbing his head. He feels blood through his fingers. One of the kids tries to rifle through his pockets while he's dazed, and he aims a vicious kick that connects, but gets him kicked back harder by the kid's friend. Bucky whimpers as he stumbles to the pavement. One of them gives him a kick in the ribs, then another to the face which sends him down hard.

\--

When Bucky comes to, he’s face down on the street, with no idea where he is or how long he's been there. He can hear a voice but he can't tell what they're saying, and there are hands touching him. He tries to shrug them off, thinking it's the teenagers still trying to get his wallet.

"Easy there kid," says a deep voice, and someone puts pressure on his shoulder, holding him down. "Don't move, we're gonna take care of you. What's your name?"

Bucky groans. "Bu - Bucky," he grits out. His head feels like someone ran over it. "Where - my friends?"

"They in the club? We'll get someone to make an announcement."

“Someone mug you?”

“Uh huh. Took m’phone.”

“Okay, just relax, tell me what hurts.”

Bucky kind of drifts for a while, then there's a lot of lights and movement and a paramedic checks him over. They tell him he’s not gonna fall apart and help him up, before bundling him into the back of an ambulance.

“Are my friends here?” Bucky asks quietly. 

“You know their numbers?”

Bucky shakes his head, and someone pats his shoulder. “You can get in touch with them later, don’t worry.” He sits with his head bowed and kicks himself for not taking the time to learn Steve’s number. He’s memorized more or less everything else he knows about Steve. It wouldn’t help, because Steve mutes his phone at night, but it would still make him feel better to leave him a message, something.

After two hours at the ER he discovers that he doesn’t have any broken bones, but he does have a suspected concussion and a sprained wrist. And, of course, all his shit is gone. After he’s made a police report, he manages to beg the use of a phone. First he calls Clint, who doesn't pick up, then his mom, who cries, then his bank to cancel his cards, and his cell provider to cancel his contract. By that point it's after three and he's basically already had enough of the new year. It takes him two hours to walk back to Carol’s apartment, and twenty minutes of buzzing to get a rabid-sounding America to let him in.

“What the fuck happened?” Kate whispers in a small, frightened voice when they let him in.

Bucky groans and sinks onto the couch. Clint climbs on next to him and slumps on Bucky’s right side, putting a heavy arm around his waist. Bucky explains quickly, feeling more stupid with each retelling; by the time he’s done, Clint is already asleep in his lap. He pats Clint’s head absently, wishing he could talk to Steve.

"I need someone's phone," he says while Kate makes him coffee and she and America both apologize profusely for not looking for him. 

“We thought you went home with that big buff dude,” Kate says, looking thoroughly miserable. “I’m so sorry.”

“That guy was _ripped_ ,” America says, raising her eyebrows at him. “Why _didn’t_ you go home with him?” 

“Here,” Kate says, handing him her phone. “But _don’t_ look at the pictures.” 

He offers her a weak smile. “I just need to send an email.”

> To: Skinny Dweeb [pictureofhealth@gmail.com]  
>  From: Sgt Barnes [ohmysergeant@tiscali.net]  
>  Subject: no subject  
>  \--  
>  Steeb,
> 
> Sorry about last night - didn't hang up, got mugged. I’m okay, bar the black eye and the wrist sprain. Kind of provides perspective. I won't hold it against you if you say no, but I really wanna meet you before I leave New York. We're leaving tomorrow afternoon but i’ll be in this coffee shop from 11 - 3 (see the map!)
> 
> if not I guess I’ll see you on IM tomorrow night to post the story :)
> 
> Talk soon,  
>  Bx

\--

Steve checks his emails at 2:30. After Bucky got cut off, he tried calling back a few times and got no answer, until someone who was definitely not Bucky answered and told him to stop calling. Then he called the police instead.

He tried to sleep after that but he ended up worrying himself into a frenzy and calling Peggy at 5am to talk him down. He’d meant to wake up early and try Bucky again but he slept clean through his alarm until two.

When he sees the email, Steve swears a blue streak unlike anything his apartment has seen before, and gets dressed in record time. As he stumbles outside to hail a cab, he looks up the number of the coffee shop on his phone and tries calling them. There's no answer. He tries four times, getting increasingly irate while the cab driver eyes him nervously in the rear view mirror.

When he finally gets to the coffee shop it's almost 3:45 and Steve is ready to commit murder. He throws some money at the cab driver and a scrambles onto the sidewalk with a shouted apology, then runs across the street to the coffee shop. An old woman yells at him for Jaywalking and he flips her the bird as he reaches the door, gasping for breath.

It's quiet inside, almost empty, and Steve hurriedly scans the occupied tables looking for someone who could be bucky. There are two couples and an elderly guy reading a paper and that's it. Steve wilts into a chair and fishes his inhaler out of his pocket.

He sighs and leans forward while he catches his breath.

"Excuse me?"

Steve looks up at the waitress, who's standing over him. "Uh, sorry, I'm not gonna order anything."

She shakes her head. "Are you Steve?"

"What? Yes! Is he still here?" he says, getting up from his chair and looking around.

She shakes her head, looking awkward. "I'm sorry, you just missed him, but he left you this."

Steve looks down, bewildered, as she holds out a note. "Th - thanks," he stammers, taking it and opening it.

> _Brooklyn, 1941_
> 
>  
> 
> __
> 
> Stevie,
> 
> _Don’t hate me, kid. I got my draft notice three weeks ago. I thought you knew, I was so sure you would’ve guessed, but I didn’t want that._
> 
> _I’m gonna be gone when you get home, and don’t think you’ll catch me at the station, because I’ll be long gone. It’s just for eight weeks though, I’m gonna be back to make your life hell before you know it. Or more like you can make mine hell, for pulling this._
> 
> _I feel like a dirty cheat but it’s the only thing I could do and I don’t care if it makes me a coward, I couldn’t watch your face when I told you. I’d rather watch you try and stay mad at me when I get back. Because I’m coming back for you in a couple of months Steve, I promise you that. This war ain’t gonna take us away from each other, not for good. I won’t ask you to wait for me, I’d never do that, but if you’re there to meet me at the station I’ll be the happiest fella in the whole big apple._
> 
> _Don’t write me, for now. I’m sure you got a lot to say to me, but just write it down and keep it safe. I’ll see it soon._
> 
> _Yours,  
>  Bucky_

Steve starts crying at _I don’t care if it makes me a coward_ , and by the end the tears are streaming down his face. He looks up and catches an anxious glance from the waitress who gave him the letter. Avoiding her eyes, he tucks the letter in his pocket and leaves. He starts dialling Bucky, and stops when he remembers Bucky doesn't have a phone. Instead he calls Sam. 

"Hey dude, what's up?"

"Sam,” he says, his voice cracked and stumbling. “I fucked up."

Sam takes a deep breath. “Okay, Steve. Let’s start from the top, huh?”


	7. My type is tall, handsome and dorky as fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're getting two chapters today because I felt bad after yesterday :) ENJOY <3

>   
> **pictureofhealth** posted _New York, June 1941_
> 
>  
> 
> _Bucky,_
> 
> _You’re a damn fool but I won’t call you one of a hundred other names you deserve, because I know that’s what you want and you think that’ll let you off easy. You idiot, of course I knew. I could see it on your face the minute I got home, and I know you think I never found that second slit in your mattress, Buck, but I found that a long time ago._
> 
> _So yeah, I know about the racy pictures too. Didn’t know skinny and blond was your type, but I get it now. Message received, Bucky. I hope you know I’m proud of you, and I’m just eaten up with envy and I wish I was there too, but goddamn, Bucky you make me so proud to be your friend._
> 
> _I’ll see you soon._
> 
> _Yours_ ,  
>  _S_
> 
> #ohmysergeant  
> 

\--

 **ohmysergeant**  
do we have the worst timing or what

 **pictureofhealth**  
Bucky omg  
Are you okay??

 **ohmysergeant**  
I’m okay :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
fuck, are you  
did  
shit I don’t even know what I’m trying to ask

 **ohmysergeant**  
I saw your post  
god you fuckin sap  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
*cough* you started it

 **ohmysergeant**  
ah shit yeah, busted

 **pictureofhealth**  
I missed you by like ten minutes  
I’ve never been so fucking angry

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha I can tell by the pottymouth :p 

**pictureofhealth**  
fuck you dude i’m so mad I didn’t get to hug you and laugh at your black eye

 **ohmysergeant**  
well, as for the latter, I’ll send you a photo

 **pictureofhealth**  
: >

 **ohmysergeant**  
so, I guess we better post this big bang huh?

 **pictureofhealth**  
I’m all set

 **ohmysergeant**  
then let’s do it :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
annnnd now we wait for the comments to roll in  
feels a bit anticlimactic doesn’t it?

 **pictureofhealth**  
it won’t when people start telling you how awesome it is  
and it really, really is

 **ohmysergeant**  
yeah well a lot of that is down to you  
so thank you, steeb  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
you’ll make me blush!  
you’re welcome, thanks for giving me such a brilliant story to work with

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay we gotta stop  
and i hate to ditch but I really need to sleep

 **pictureofhealth**  
np :3  
sweet dreams

 **ohmysergeant**  
they will be after that letter  
thank you  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
least I could do  
and I meant it, Bucky

\--

It’s the Sunday after New Year, and the coffee shop is the quietest Bucky has ever seen it. He and Natasha have been scraping around for the past hour, trying to find jobs to do, and they’ve already cleaned every single shelf and cupboard and reorganized pretty much everything in the stockroom. They give up trying to force work to happen, and Natasha makes them both some tea. 

“You can leave early if you want,” she says lightly, passing him his cup. “You really didn’t need to come in.”

Bucky just shrugs. “I’m fine, and I didn’t wanna leave you on your own.”

She smiles. “Barnes, you’re alright. So, what’s up with you anyway?” she asks, eyeing him over the rim of her teacup. 

Bucky wilts under the glare. He likes Natasha a lot; she’s much better than their old manager, she knows how to turn on the charm with the customers, but she doesn’t take any shit from jerks, and she’s always got their back. He really wishes he hadn’t slept with her, not because she’s two years older than him and sort of terrifying, but because he thinks they could probably have been friends. 

“Nothing’s up,” he says, trying not to sound too defensive. Honestly, he’s been obsessing all morning over how best to tell Steve that he’s completely besotted with him and that he thinks they should meet up and have coffee or something, maybe make out for three days straight. Normally he’d just come out with it; Bucky is anything but shy when it comes to asking people out. But Steve is much more elusive, skittish, and Bucky doesn’t wanna scare him off.

Natasha glances round to make sure there are no customers nearby. “Bullshit,” she tells him. “I know it’s not about me, though Jesus Christ you did a good job of avoiding me for a while there-”

“I didn’t-”

“-which is fine, I get it, but this is something else.” She raises an eyebrow. “Someone else?”

Bucky cringes. “It’s a long story.”

Natasha shrugs and sips her tea. “Looks like we’ve got a long afternoon. Why don’t you tell it?”

It surprises him, but Bucky actually does feel better telling her the story. He glosses over the parts where he’s in love with two fictional super soldiers and instead focuses on the part where he might be a little bit in love with this adorable recluse artist called Steve who lives in New York. He even tells her the part about the phone sex, and their near miss at New Year. He’s surprised to find that Natasha, who is usually sarcastic, flirty and stone cold by turns, listens carefully and gently questions when Bucky gets stuck. She doesn’t make fun of him at all, or make him feel silly for falling for a guy he’s never seen, and that kind of means the world.

“You know you need to tell him how you feel, right?”

Bucky makes a face. “I dunno, I tried that already. What if-”

“What if?” she snaps. “Jesus, Bucky, what if the fucking building burned down right now and we got trapped in here and died surrounded by overpriced coffee beans?”

He reels back from her, wide-eyed. “Okay, I get it, but-”

“No buts,” she says, more calmly. “ _Trust me_. I think he’s just as into you as you’re into him, he’s just scared.”

Bucky slams his cup down and puts his arms around her. He half expects to get punched in the throat, but Natasha just puts her own drink aside and hugs him back, hard. She only comes up to his chin but she’s strong, and he remembers something about her doing kickboxing and makes a mental note to be _very careful_ not to risk pissing her off again. “Thank you, Tasha,” he says, grinning at her. “And I’m really sorry about - uh-”

“Bucky,” she says, fondly, “we had sex, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting - or hoping for - a proposal. It was pretty obvious even then that you were hung up on someone.”

“Oh,” he says, and smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I’m an ass.”

“Yeah,” she says, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “You are.”

“You wanna get a drink after this?”

She nods, a big grin spreading over her face. “Sure, anything but coffee.”

\--

_Comments on Some Tall Moon Tail_

**unilateralfandom** _said_  
“THANK YOU for this, it’s such a great story and the art is so beautiful too, your work really complements each other. I was on the edge of my seat for the last couple of chapters, you both did such a fantastic job. I hope we see more from you both in the future!”

 **gimmedatlittlecapass** _said_  
"Holy shit I know it’s a nuclear winter but that was HOT AS HELL. You guys have destroyed me. I’ll be in my bunk."

 **thebusinessofcoveringup** _said_  
"Oh no, it’s over. I never wanted this story to end! It’s such a clever twist on the Winter Soldier tale, and the art so beautifully illustrates the characters and the world, it really brings the story to life. You have outdone yourselves, and I hope you’re proud! I can already tell I’ll be returning to this story over and over, so thank you for this wonderful gift. Will there be a sequel in the works anytime? It seems like this world is just ripe for exploring further."

 **captainamericascactus** _said_  
"WHAAAAAT. I AM DED. PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S GONNA BE A SEQUEL."

 **deltaforceteammates** _said_  
"I didn’t like Nat that much but STeve and Bucky were great and I really liked the bits with Bucky when Steve found him and had to try and help him remember."

 **alwaysridingshotgun** _said_  
"pictureofhealth is my favourite fanartist!! this is beautiful!!! i love the way you draw their faces and the porn is really hot too"

 **bucky1over2000** _said_  
"WAIT ARE THEY DEAD?"

 **shinesunshine** _said_  
"I love this story. Love love love. I cried so much, my boyfriend thought someone had died. Thank you for all your time and hard work, it’s really paid off. ALSO jfyi I follow both of you on tumblr and you’re the cutest I want you guys to get married lol"

\--

_**pictureofhealth** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
hey  
so, we need to talk

 **ohmysergeant**  
:) everything okay?

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah  
look, a) I’m a fucking idiot  
b) I’m really - I don’t want you to be disappointed in me

 **ohmysergeant**  
are you kidding Steve?  
I think you’re awesome, I’m never gonna be disappointed by you

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh god don’t say that, that’s worse

 **ohmysergeant**  
:x sorry

 **pictureofhealth**  
um so c) I was a total fucking idiot about new years and I’m so sorry

 **ohmysergeant**  
isn’t that basically the same as a) :p

 **pictureofhealth**  
shhhh  
I uh  
crap, I feel like we should be doing this over the phone at least  
sorry

 **ohmysergeant**  
jfc steve just put me out of my misery already

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah, I’m trying

 **ohmysergeant**  
it’s okay buddy, you don’t have to spell it out  
we can stay friends, I’ll back off :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
no bucky  
no  
I really fucking like you  
and I  
I’d really like to meet up sometime

 **ohmysergeant**  
:D  
um YES

 **pictureofhealth**  
: >  
but i’m also shitting myself jfyi  
I don’t wanna fuck this up

 **ohmysergeant**  
right there with you pal 

**pictureofhealth**  
so - i’m crazy busy for the next couple of weeks but  
maybe we could work something out for then?

 **ohmysergeant**  
dude of course  
I can come down if you want, save you the travelling

 **pictureofhealth**  
maybe we could meet halfway : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
that works too :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
:3

 **ohmysergeant**  
holy shit :D

 **pictureofhealth** yeah : >  
okay I hate to make plans and run but  
SO behind on schoolwork and I have a huge stack of commissions to do

 **ohmysergeant**  
np :D  
fyi this? :D gonna be grinning like that for AT LEAST the next three days

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah, me too :D night Bucky 

\--

Steve goes away on a college art trip in the middle of January, and Bucky quickly realizes just how much time they normally spend talking. Steve goes away on Friday and he’s too busy to text for the most part, so Bucky tries to make himself do normal things like going to the gym and doing all his laundry and cleaning the apartment. After that he does his homework, defrags his computer, and backs up all his files. 

He’s bored out of his fucking mind.

While he’s messing around with the laptop, he finds all the pictures Steve has sent him, or that he’s saved from Steve’s blog, and he moves them into a folder together, squirrelled away inside another where they won’t be easily found. Even as he does it, he knows he’s being pathetic. The photos still don’t really tell him enough to guess at what Steve looks like, beyond the very non-specific: he’s white, he’s not overweight - from the look of his collarbone, standing out from his pale skin, he’s probably _under_ weight. Bucky hopes he isn’t anorexic or something. 

Without really thinking about what he’s doing, Bucky opens up all the pictures he has of Steve and lays them out in an empty photoshop document, assembling him like an action figure. He has Steve’s left ankle, marked with a small tattoo; his right thigh, a long purple-yellow bruise eating its way over his skin; his hip, another tattoo curling around it; his chest, wearing a Captain America t-shirt; his right hand, long slim fingers covered in ink stains; his collarbone, shirt peeled away to reveal a tattoo sitting just above it. 

The collarbone is the one he returns to most often, especially since that phone conversation that they never _really_ talked about. He wants to run his tongue over it, to taste the hollow of Steve’s throat, to find out what kind of noises he would make if Bucky bit his neck. It comes as no surprise that thinking about it gets him hard. They don’t talk on the phone often, but every time they do Bucky thinks about Steve’s voice in his ear when he’s coming, how he would sound all loose and broken up and desperate. Not a surprise, but it does make him feel slightly guilty, at least until he reaches down to adjust himself through his boxers - just for comfort’s sake - and has to force back a sigh at the feeling of relief. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong. Bucky’s jerked off over plenty of pictures of people he doesn’t know before; everyone does it. And Steve never has to find out. Plus, Bucky tells himself, he’s not _really_ jerking off over Steve because he doesn’t _really_ know what he looks like. Future!Bucky will know that for the lie it is, but right now, all present!Bucky can think about is his mouth and hands on Steve’s skin, and he puts his hand in his underwear before he can think about it too hard. 

Bucky shuts his eyes and shoves his underwear down so he can get both hands wrapped around himself. He jerks himself a few times, then he realizes he still wants to look at the pictures and he snaps his eyes open again, angling his head so he can still see the screen. He licks his lips, bites down on the bottom one. Bucky wishes he knew what Steve’s mouth looked like so he could picture it, imagine kissing it, could pretend the sensation of it on his skin. 

His phone buzzes loudly and Bucky swears. His first instinct is to ignore it, but then he considers that it might be Steve, and he tries to grab for it with his left hand, but only succeeds in knocking it off his nightstand. He swears again loudly and glances over at the laptop. Maybe reading a message from Steve right now isn’t the best idea. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, reaching over the edge of the bed and fumbling around for the phone. Just as he’s about to give up and get back to touching himself, his fingers touch the phone and he grabs it. 

**{Just ate so much ice cream I’m gonna puke until I die. Remember me kindly.}**

Along with the message, there’s a photo, and Bucky actually moans out loud when he looks at it. It’s a picture of the biggest ice cream cone he’s ever seen, at least three different flavors, but that’s not where Bucky’s looking. At the bottom of the photo can only be Steve’s fingers, thin and ink-stained, wrapped around the cone. And just visible over the top of the ice cream is a red, smiling mouth, bottom lip caught between teeth that are just slightly crooked. 

Bucky comes all over his hand before he knows what’s happening. 

\--

**{Looks good enough to eat.}**

Steve reads Bucky’s text over and over on the way back to their hotel. A couple of his classmates nudge him and try and drag him into the conversation, and Steve smiles and contributes just enough that they won’t think he’s being antisocial. He doesn’t know any of them really well, not to talk to out of class, but they all know about his illness and for the most part they’re friendly and supportive. 

When they finally get back, Steve begs off going for another drink and goes up to his room. They’re used to him rejecting invitations, blaming it on his ME, and nobody looks particularly offended that he’s turning in. Steve brushes his teeth and climbs into bed with his sketchbook. He thinks about what to say to Bucky.

Steve’s been feeling daring and reckless all weekend, and maybe part of it is that he’s forced himself to stay incommunicado for three days - well, almost - but he’s missing Bucky like crazy, and in the end he’d decided to just send the fucking photo and not worry about the consequences. Steve knows that he’s freaking out. He still hasn’t made plans with Bucky to meet up, even though Bucky’s brought it up twice in the past week. He wants, desperately, to call Peggy and talk to her about it, but even if he could afford the phonecall, it’s the middle of the night in England. He would call Sam, but he has a rare weekend off from worrying about Steve’s problems and also, he’s probably sick of hearing about it by now. He goes to tumblr instead.

>   
> **pictureofhealth** posted _no title_
> 
> Bucky: hey steeb
> 
> Steve: hey buck
> 
> Bucky: sup?
> 
> Steve: nothin. [whispers] I am in love with you and I don’t know how to tell you
> 
> Bucky: huh?
> 
> Steve: huh?
> 
> #pretty much my life #these guys have ruined me #wtf do i do  
> 

He gets half a dozen replies in the space of thirty seconds. Several asks checking that he’s okay, does he need to talk, and quite a few reblogs from people who just assume he’s talking about fictional Steve and Bucky. He doesn’t try to convince himself they’re right. He does delete the tags.

In the end he texts Bucky back just before he falls asleep. 

**{You can try a taste if you like.}**

\--

_**ohmysergeant** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
Bucckkyyyyy

 **ohmysergeant**  
STEEB  
:D  
I knew you couldn’t stay away

 **pictureofhealth**  
ah right you think I came back for you?  
I can get a novelty skirt chaser in any big city these days  
they come in packs of six

 **ohmysergeant**  
uh huh, think you’re funny do ya, punk?

 **pictureofhealth**  
funnier than you

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh that’s nice  
after I got you a surprise and everything

 **pictureofhealth**  
aw, buck, why’d you go and do that?

 **ohmysergeant**  
don’t matter now, I’m taking it right back to the store in the morning

 **pictureofhealth**  
no! I didn’t mean it buck, come on  
what’d you get me? 

**ohmysergeant**  
nah you wouldn’t want it

 **pictureofhealth**  
I do!

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay then you gotta guess

 **pictureofhealth**  
Buuuuck

 **ohmysergeant**  
no pouting, c’mon. you’re a smart cookie  
I’ll give you three guesses

 **pictureofhealth**  
Bucky, if I find out it’s your dong, so help me

 **ohmysergeant**  
hey, don’t be sore honey, I’m trying to be nice

 **pictureofhealth**  
ahh get your paws off me, at least shut the drapes

 **ohmysergeant**  
what if I want everyone to see?  
see what a cute little fella I got

 **pictureofhealth**  
then i’d say you’re whacko

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay, okay, I’ll shut ‘em. gonna take a guess?

 **pictureofhealth**  
nah, just gimme a kiss and tell me  
I don’t feel like playin’ games

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay, shut your eyes  
got a honey cooler for ya that’ll knock your socks off

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
honey cooler?

 **ohmysergeant**  
what! I was researching old timey slang :D 

**pictureofhealth**  
is it as filthy as it sounds?

 **ohmysergeant**  
no!! it means a KISS you degenerate

 **pictureofhealth**  
oops sry :x  
where were we

 **ohmysergeant**  
well bucky WAS gonna kiss steve and then turn him inside out with his tongue

 **pictureofhealth**  
sounds painful :p

 **ohmysergeant**  
stfu you idiot  
that’s the last time I try and simulate rimming over IM with YOU 

**pictureofhealth**  
Aw Bucky don’t say that

 **ohmysergeant**  
:p

 **pictureofhealth**  
hey  
can I ask you a super personal question that you do not have to answer

 **ohmysergeant**  
obviously :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay no I feel dumb now

 **ohmysergeant**  
HA it’s about rimming isn’t it

 **pictureofhealth**  
howwww did you know that  
okay fuck it, have you ever done that before?

 **ohmysergeant**  
yup

 **pictureofhealth**  
and??

 **ohmysergeant**  
YUP

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh wow okay  
um

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha it’s okay I know your next question  
both, I like it both ways

 **pictureofhealth**  
man, did not expect to learn so much about you tonight

 **ohmysergeant**  
I can tell you were thinking about me a lot while you were away ;D

 **pictureofhealth**  
I actually was : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
haha oh  
OH :D  
really?

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah!  
I had to give my phone to someone else so I didn’t text you every three minutes

 **ohmysergeant**  
awww :3  
I missed you too steeb

 **pictureofhealth**  
:D

 **ohmysergeant**  
FUCK  
I just saw the time, I’ve got an early shift before class tomorrow D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
shit, sorry, you better sleep!

 **ohmysergeant**  
believe me I would MUCH rather be discussing sexual deviants with you  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
I should hope so  <3

 **ohmysergeant**  
goodnight cutie! 

_**ohmysergeant** is offline_

\--

As soon as Bucky has signed off, Steve decides he can’t leave it like that. He digs around in the swamp of his bed for wherever he threw his phone when he got home, and calls Bucky.

“Steve? Is something wrong?”

“Nah,” Steve says, climbing onto the bed himself and flopping down. “I just - we need to talk about something, before you go.”

“Okay.” Bucky sounds slightly anxious, or possibly annoyed, it’s hard to tell. 

Steve laughs nervously. “I, uh. I’m really scared you won’t think I’m hot.”

“Ohh,” Bucky says, and makes a soothing noise. “Steve, c’mon, I’ve seen enough of you to know that you’re cute as hell, and let me just point out that your looks are _not_ why I like you.”

“No, but-” Steve cuts himself off awkwardly, not sure what he wants to say. He takes a shallow breath. “You still gotta be attracted to the person you - you’re gonna see, y’no?”

Bucky sighs. “You worry too much, dude. If you still wanna meet up, why don’t we just set a date and see how it goes?”

Steve laughs. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, stupid. Your idea, remember?”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, grinning. “How’s next weekend?”

“I’ll need to see if I can switch a shift, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And FYI I’m pretty sure you suggested it first.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, well, I’m a genius.” He’s quiet while Steve laughs at him, then he goes on more gently. “So, we’re actually gonna do this?”

“We’re gonna do this. Seriously, tell me where and when, Bucky. I think we’ve done enough waiting around.”


	8. I love you like RLB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LAST :D

Bucky goes from walking on air to drowning in a pool of misery when Steve doesn’t come online for three days after their talk. He doesn’t answer any texts or pick up his phone either, and on the fourth day, Bucky starts to panic. He wakes up three hours before his alarm goes off, worrying about Steve, and he only lasts for two hours at his shift before Natasha becomes convinced he’s sick and sends him home early. Normally he’d put up a fight; he doesn’t like bunking off when there’s nothing wrong with him, but the truth is he’s just a liability if he stays. He’s already dropped more trays and botched more orders in two hours than he has in the whole year he’s worked there.

All he can think about is Steve. 

The second he’s out the door, he checks his phone again but there’s still nothing. No messages, no emails. Bucky bites his lip and dials Steve’s number. He’s got this horrible feeling that Steve might have changed his mind, but he’s also not cool with Steve ignoring him. If he wants to be left alone, he’s just gotta say so and Bucky will leave him the fuck alone. He presses the call button, then holds his breath as it rings and rings. At least if his phone is still on, he’s probably not dead. It reminds him of the first time he called, when he thought Steve would never pick up. This time though, it goes straight to voicemail. Before he has time to think, the message tone beeps and he stammers awkwardly, “Uh it’s me, it’s Bucky.” He cringes, but forces himself to carry on. “I’m sorry to bug you, I just - I wanted to see if you’re doing okay, because you’ve been so quiet and I was worried. I hope you don’t - look, I know you’re probably just busy but uh. Let me know you’re alright? Shit.”

He pulls a face as he hangs up, but then Steve ought to know that he’s a dumbass by now. It’s just starting to rain, so he puts his phone back in his pocket and pulls up his hood. As soon as he does, his phone starts ringing, and he fumbles it out of his pocket so fast he almost drops it. 

“Hello?” he says urgently, whipping it to his ear. 

“Buck, hey,” Steve says in a croaky voice. “Y’okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Bucky says, his voice shaky with relief. He runs his fingers through his hair, then pushes his hood back up. “You sound awful.”

“Sick,” Steve mutters crossly. “Stuck in bed, barely moved in three days ‘cept to piss.”

Bucky frowns, and the knot of worry in his stomach reminds him that it’s still there. “You eating?”

Steve starts to reply, but his words are smothered by a cough. “Not hungry,” he wheezes when the coughing has subsided. 

“You should eat. Where’s Sam?”

“At his parents’. Back Thursday.”

Bucky groans. “Steve, you gotta get someone over. Is there anyone you can call?”

Steve makes a noncommital sound. “Not really.” He heaves out a strained sigh. “‘m okay, just gotta sleep.”

The rain starts coming down heavier, and Bucky picks up his pace. He rubs his hand over his face. He has an idea, but he’s pretty sure Steve’s not gonna like it. “I could come down and see you.”

“No, Buck,” Steve complains. “You don’t need to, I’m fine.”

“I thought you wanted to meet up sometime?”

“I do,” Steve mutters. “But not when I’m gross and sick.”

“I thought you were fine?” Steve just groans in reply, and Bucky allows himself a smile “Send me your address, I’ll be there in five hours. Four if I can beat the traffic.”

“Bucky, I’m not that sick-”

“Well you sound like shit warmed up,” Bucky snaps. “I’ll be home in ten, then I’m gonna pack a bag and get straight in my car. Where do you live?”

Steve is quiet for a few seconds. “This is a bad idea, Bucky,” he says quietly. “You have school, and work, and it’ll cost you a whole tank to get here and back.”

“I care about you, Steve,” Bucky says in a pleading tone. “Please let me help?”

Steve sighs heavily, but he finally grumbles his assent. “Okay,” he says grudgingly. “Call me back when you’re leaving.”

“Take care of yourself,” Bucky says firmly, “I’ll see you soon.”

His stomach twists wildly at the thought of actually meeting Steve in a few hours, but he pushes it down. It’s hours away and he still has to get there first. Bucky practically runs the rest of the way home and gets changed in five seconds flat. Then he stares at his wardrobe for a whole minute and gets changed twice more until he feels he looks good enough to present himself to his epic crush.

He finds his duffel bag out of the closet and throws in a couple of changes of clothes, his laptop and his toothbrush. He figures he’ll find a hostel or something for the night, once he’s made sure Steve’s okay, then check on him again in the morning. After a moment’s hesitation, he throws in his copy of Lolita too and grabs his keys. He shrugs his coat on over his hoodie and slams the door behind him.

Steve answers on the second ring this time, and he sounds a little more lucid; Bucky realizes he probably woke him up before. “Bucky?”

“Hey, listen I’m just about to leave. What’s your address so I can put it in my GPS?”

Steve huffs. “I dunno if this is a good idea.”

“I get that, Steve,” Bucky says calmly, “and believe me, I understand, but we’re friends, and you’re sick, so I’m gonna come and see you. I’ll stay in a hotel tonight and if you never wanna meet up again afterwards that’s fine, but just for once I want you to shut up and trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Steve mutters, fixing on the one point of contention like a petulant child.

“Good,” Bucky says, allowing himself a smile. “Then tell me, a) your symptoms, b) your favorite food and c) where the fuck you live.”

It turns out Steve has a studio apartment in a shitty, studenty neighborhood, which Bucky assures Steve he can find with his eyes closed. “Really,” he says with a grin. “I grew up in Brooklyn, I’ll manage.”

He stops off on his way out of town to pick up supplies. Steve texts him just as he’s paying.

**{:3}**

Bucky smiles and texts back. **{Put a movie on, get some sleep, I’ll be there before you know it.}**

**{too nervous to sleep}**

**{Humor me}**

Back in his car, he tunes the radio and gets on the highway. He’s made this journey a hundred times to visit his parents and friends, but not for a while, and excitement churns up with anxiety in his gut. Right now he doesn’t care how awkward it might be, he just wants Steve to be okay.

\--

Bucky texts Steve again once he hits the city and he’s sitting in traffic. **{30mins}**

**{I look atrocious}**

**{Bullshit}** , Bucky replies, and realizes that it’s true. Yes, he’s been stupidly romanticizing this thing with Steve for weeks, maybe _months_ , yes he’s wildly in love with Steve’s clavicle, his ankle, the delicate bones in his wrist, but he’s still ready to love Steve no matter what he looks like. 

Bucky is almost trembling when he rings the buzzer to Steve’s building. It’s exactly four and a half hours since Steve called him and Bucky’s pretty pleased with himself for getting here so fast. He shifts the weight of his bag on his shoulder and really _really_ hopes Steve will answer the door. His nerves start to claw their way up his throat now that he’s here, now that he has to actually stop and think about what he’s doing.

Eventually there’s a crackle, then a voice that is distorted but unmistakeably Steve says, “Yeah?”

A little nervous laugh escapes from his throat and he winces. “Hey, Steve?”

“Holy shit,” Steve croaks. “You actually came.”

“Yup," Bucky says with a self-conscious giggle. "I guess I did.”

“I’m on the fourth floor, uh. See you in a second.”

Steve clicks off and the buzzer goes, releasing the door. When he gets to the right landing, Bucky hesitates and takes a deep breath before knocking on Steve's front door. It opens almost immediately, and Bucky finds himself standing face to face with a tiny, scruffy-haired guy wearing a Captain America tee that’s been washed and worn so often it’s almost see-through. Bucky recognizes it from the old photo he has saved, although the shirt definitely looks worse for wear now. Steve is wearing a big cardigan over the top, and his bare toes peep out from the ragged ends of his pajama pants.

“Bucky?” he says, his tired eyes going wide. They’re bright blue against his pale skin, and make him look much younger than he is. He looks everything and nothing like Bucky pictured him. 

Steve takes half a step forward into the doorway, and Bucky laughs and drops his bags on the ground so he can sweep Steve up in a hug. He's warm and slight in Bucky's arms, and he smells of coffee and Vick's.

“It’s so good to see you,” Bucky says, holding onto Steve a little too tight. He only just comes up to Bucky’s chin, and soft blond hair tickles his nose. “I’ve been so fucking worried about you.”

"It's not that bad," Steve huffs, and Bucky pulls back reluctantly. Steve gives him a sheepish look, the corner of his mouth curling up in a weary smile that Bucky finds completely adorable. "But, thanks. For coming, I mean." He steps aside to let Bucky in, and makes a face. “Sorry about the mess.”

Bucky stoops to pick up his bags and hauls them inside. “Why would you think I’d be looking anywhere but at you?”

Steve blushes and ducks his head nervously. “‘m not much to look at right now.”

It might be the least true thing that’s ever been said, as far as Bucky’s concerned. Steve may not be feeling his best, but he’s still drop dead _gorgeous_. His dirty blond hair falls into his eyes and skims the back of his neck, and he has a slight, delicate build underneath his clothes. His nose is red and probably swollen and he looks tired and wan, and probably like he could use a sandwich or twelve. Bucky realizes he knows way more about Steve’s eating habits than he probably should for a guy he just met.

“Quit staring,” Steve says. He pushes his glasses up on top of his head, moving the hair out of his eyes, and gives Bucky a small smile. “You’ll make me blush.”

They’re a few steps apart again, and while Bucky wants nothing more than to pick Steve up and cuddle him for at least the next two hours, he just walks a little closer and puts his right hand on Steve’s forehead instead, pressing his palm against the clammy skin. “Did you have a fever?” he asks, touching Steve’s shoulder with his other hand. “You’re still pretty warm.”

“Yeah, it was worse yesterday.” Steve glances up at him quickly, then away again, and Bucky removes his hands. “Sorry I didn’t text you back or anything, I was really out of it.”

“Dude, you _really_ don’t need to apologize for being sick.”

Steve huffs and crosses his hand over his chest, holding onto his other arm. “But you came all this way-”

“That’s right!” Bucky says quickly, interrupting him. He picks up the bag of groceries and walks over to the kitchenette. The apartment is divided in two, the kitchen on one side and a bedroom/living space on the other, and every available flat surface is covered with art and related detritus: pens, brushes, paper. Bucky pushes aside some dirty cups and sets the groceries down on the kitchen worktop. Steve watches him anxiously from the doorway. “I’m not gonna listen to any kind of apology,” Bucky says, as he starts piling up dishes. “Anything else is fair game.”

“Where are you gonna stay?” Steve asks, watching him carefully.

Bucky shrugs. “I’ll find a room somewhere, don’t worry about it.” He tosses a grin over his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down? You look exhausted.”

“Been sitting all day,” Steve mutters, but he comes in and hikes himself up onto a bare corner of the worktop. He frowns at the pile of dirty plates in Bucky’s hand and looks embarrassed. “You don’t need to clear up.”

“Well, I’m here to help, so you’ll just have to put up with it.”

Steve’s mouth thins into a flat line, and he shakes his head once, before thinking better of it. “I - I wish we weren’t meeting like this,” he says quietly, and Bucky stops stacking dishes to hear him better. “I’m really not good at being looked after.”

“Think of this as practise,” Bucky says, winking at him before he turns around and starts filling the sink with hot water. "You don't get better at something unless you practise." There are only three plates and four bowls in the kitchen, but easily thirty or forty mugs and glasses. Some of them are streaked with paint or ink, and there are clean paintbrushes on the drying rack. He can feel Steve’s eyes on his back as he starts washing dishes and piles them up to dry.

“Do you have work tomorrow?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’ve got a couple of days off now.”

“What about college?”

“Trying to get rid of me so soon?” He glances back to let Steve know that he’s just kidding, but Steve just rolls his eyes with a grin.

“No, Bucky,” he says, laughing at himself. He's quiet for a moment, then he goes on hesitantly. “Hey, do you mind me calling you Bucky?”

Bucky gives him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? I love it.” He narrows his eyes slightly; Steve is still smiling, but he looks like he might fall on his face at any second. “When did you last take some medicine?”

“I dunno,” Steve mutters, shrugging. “What time is it now? I don’t think I took any yet today.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and nods towards the bag on the counter. “Get some of those cold and flu meds down you in the next five seconds or else.” He picks up one of the clean glasses and fills it with cold water, then passes it over to Steve. He looks unimpressed, but he does as he’s told nonetheless. Bucky wonders if he’s just too polite to argue. After a couple of minutes he’s filled up the rack with clean dishes and cups, so he piles the rest to one side and starts opening cupboards at random. “You got a saucepan? Chopping board?”

“Uh - ah-” Steve cuts himself off with a sneeze, which he catches on his sleeve. “Shit,” he mumbles, stuffy and miserable-sounding. He hops down awkwardly from his perch on the counter and kicks one of the cupboard doors on his way out. “That one."

While Steve is gone, Bucky finds a saucepan and puts it on the stove to heat up, then pours a little oil in the bottom. He finds a chopping board and a knife and starts dicing up ginger, spring onions, chillies, lime and cilantro. Steve pads back into the kitchen, trying to blow his nose quietly. "What're you making?"

"Chicken noodle soup," Bucky says, grinning as he pulls out a pack of diced chicken. "What else?"

"You're making it from scratch?"

"You know soup doesn't start out in cans, right?” He tears open the packet and tips the chicken in, where it slowly starts to sizzle. “Someone's gotta make it first."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Ha ha. Didn't realize you were funny in person too."

"You bet," Bucky says, grabbing a spatula and poking at the chicken pieces. "I cook, I tell jokes, I write porn about fictional characters. I'm quite a catch."

"Pretty sure other people are supposed to tell you that."

“You’re quite the charmer yourself.” Steve chuckles, but his laughter is cut short by a hacking cough. He smothers it against his sleeve, but it leaves him gasping, and Bucky takes the two steps across the kitchen to lay a hand gently on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Steve nods, watery eyes squeezed shut. Bucky grabs one of the empty glasses and runs some cold water into it, then passes it over to Steve, who takes it with a weak smile. While he collects himself, Bucky turns back to the stove and scrapes the vegetables into the pot with the chicken. “Got any salt and pepper?”

“Maybe,” Steve says in a doubtful tone. He looks blearily around him, as if the answer will present itself. “Probably not.”

“I’ll manage.” He puts some water in a jug with some stock, and sticks it in the microwave. Steve is just sitting on the worktop looking kind of dazed and watching Bucky with a rapt expression. Bucky grins at him and leans up against the counter. “So, is this the weirdest first date you’ve ever had?”

“This is a date?” Steve’s mouth slips into a wry smile, and he looks thoughtful as he considers his answer. “I dunno if it’s the weirdest, I’ve mostly dated art students. But it’s definitely the nicest so far.”

Bucky knows he must have the dorkiest grin on his face, but he couldn’t care less. It takes an awful lot of willpower not to cross over to Steve and kiss him right then and there, but it doesn’t really feel like the right time. Not just yet. Also Steve’s meds haven’t kicked in yet and he looks miserable as sin, and Bucky gets the feeling Steve will never forgive him if he lets their first kiss happen while Steve is sniffly and coughing and gross. 

_First kiss_ , Bucky thinks to himself, and just smiles wider. 

“What?” Steve asks, looking suspicious, but he’s smiling all the same. 

Bucky’s saved from answering by the microwave beeping. He takes the jug out with his sleeve over his hand, and gives it a quick stir to dissolve the last of the stock. The contents of the pot are sizzling loudly now, filling the room with steam and a warm, fresh smell. He’s sorry that Steve can’t smell it too, but it just means he’ll have to cook for him again sometime. He pours the stock in and covers the pot with a lid. 

“You never said you could cook,” Steve says accusingly. 

Bucky glances at him. “Pretty sure I’ve offered to cook for you a few times.”

“Yeah but you didn’t say you were _good_.”

The petulant tone makes him laugh, and he’s relieved to see that Steve is grinning too. “Cooking isn’t like some mysterious wizardry, you know. It’s mostly just learning some basic rules and following instructions, and then you practise until it works.”

Steve nods. “Like drawing. Most people think they can’t draw, but if they learned the rules, then did it for a couple of hours every day, they’d get pretty good.”

Bucky grins. “I dunno, I think I’ll stick with writing.”

“I hope so, you’re really good.” 

“Thanks.” Bucky flashes him a smile, which Steve returns shyly. “Really, I never thought about writing as a thing I could actually do, so. Yeah, thank you. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve yawns and stretches, then gives Bucky a weary grin. “So, what do you wanna do now you’re here?”

Bucky looks back at him sternly. “I’m here to look after you, dummy. That means we do sick person things, like sleeping and watching eighties movies.”

Steve smiles. “I do like eighties movies.”

“Well you’re only human.” He claps his hands and turns back to the stove. “But first we’re gonna eat.” 

“I am pretty hungry,” Steve admits in a reluctant tone. 

“Duh.” Bucky spoons out a little of the broth and tests it. It’s not the best he’s ever made but it’s pretty good for a rush job. He grabs the packet of dry noodles and tips them in, breaking them up with the spatula. “Okay, where do you keep the bowls?”

Steve hops down from the worktop, but his knees buckle as he hits the floor and he stumbles. Bucky darts forward to catch him. “Woah there, kiddo.”

“God, I hate this,” Steve mutters viciously, clinging onto Bucky’s hoodie. “I’m sorry, I’m fine, I just got a little dizzy.”

“Why don’t we got sit on the couch for a minute,” Bucky suggests. 

“No, I-”

“Steve, humor me?”

With a heavy sigh, Steve slips his arm around Bucky’s neck and lets Bucky support him into the other room. “I just don’t want you to think I’m useless,” Steve says sadly as Bucky gets him stationed on the couch. “Everyone else does.”

It makes Bucky’s heart clench in his chest, and he drops to his knees before he has time to think about what he’s doing. Steve is looking away from him with a miserable expression, and Bucky catches his face between both hands and turns him around to meet his eyes. For a long moment they stare at one another, Steve’s mouth parting slightly as if he wants to say something. Before he gets the chance, Bucky leans in and kisses him. Steve makes a quiet sound in his throat, and he leans into it, his own hands tugging gently at Bucky’s hoodie. It only lasts a few seconds and then Bucky pulls away. He still has Steve’s face cupped between his fingers, and he smiles and rubs a thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re not useless,” he says quietly, willing Steve to believe him. “Don’t ever think that you’re useless, because it’s not true.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles gratefully, and Bucky lets him go and pushes himself to his feet. “Stay put. I’ll be back in two minutes with the best soup you’ve ever eaten.”

\--

The soup is, according to Steve, _actually_ the best thing he’s eaten ever, but Bucky points out that everything tastes that way when they don’t eat for three days. 

“Smartass,” Steve says, nudging him with a sharp elbow. He slurps down some noodles, then looks up at Bucky hopefully. “Is there more?”

In the end Steve eats two and a half bowls of soup, and by the time he’s done he looks about a hundred times better. There’s color in his cheeks and he’s stopped sniffing and coughing so much. Bucky puts a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, and Steve turns his head away. “I uh. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky says, moving his hand to Steve’s shoulder instead. Steve leans into the touch, and Bucky gently starts massaging the tense muscles in his shoulder. 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve moans, eyes falling shut. “God, that feels good.”

Bucky turns and hitches his legs up onto the couch, then tugs Steve between his thighs. “C’mon,” he says, “get in here.”

Steve settles in with his back to Bucky’s chest, and lets himself be prodded and kneaded. Bucky, for his part, is discovering that Steve is disarmingly fucking vocal when he’s having a good time; first the soup, now the shoulder rubs? He hopes the walls aren’t too thin, or Steve’s neighbors will be getting one hell of a treat. And, at the back of his mind, is the one time they talked dirty over the phone, and Steve was trying _so damn hard_ not to make any noise, but he did, and it was incredible. Bucky still thinks about that half the time when he jerks off. 

“You still wanna watch a movie?” he asks after a few minutes, partly because if Steve keeps moaning and squirming in his lap like that, Bucky’s _definitely_ going to embarrass himself. 

Steve nods and gestures to his bookshelf. “You pick something.”

Bucky goes over and peers at the rows of DVDs. “How about Goonies?”

Steve grins. “Good choice.”

Bucky laughs and walks over with the DVD. “Guess who I was as a kid.”

“Oh, you were definitely Mouth.”

“Hey, it’s no fun if you guess it right first try.” 

Steve glances over his shoulder and Bucky spots the anxious twist to his mouth. “I was gonna say we should watch on the bed, but I need to change my sheets. My bed must be almost as contagious as me by now.”

“You want me to do it?”

“God no,” Steve says, laughing. “I’m trying to spare you.”

“No need. I was a teenage boy, remember? You can’t gross me out.” 

“Sounds like a challenge.”

For the first thirty minutes or so they laugh like lunatics, and nudge each other when one of their favorite jokes is coming up, or when Sean Astin does something particularly adorable. 

“Reminds me of you,” Bucky whispers, kissing Steve on the nose.

Steve bats him off, giggling. “I wish we grew up together, so we could’ve had our own Goonie adventures.”

“Pretty sure there’s no pirate ships in Brooklyn.”

“Only ‘cause we didn’t go looking for ‘em,” Steve replies in a sleepy, matter-of-fact voice, which doesn’t brook arguments. 

Steve falls asleep a little after that, curled up close with his head in Bucky’s lap. Bucky puts Steve’s glasses on the nightstand and runs his fingers through his soft hair. His breathing is noisy because of his blocked nose, a thready little whine each time he breathes in, a quiet whistle each time he breathes out. Bucky could swear he actually feels his heart breaking as he sits there watching Steve sleep, and forgets to watch the movie at all. 

He wakes up about ten minutes from the end, and sits up to stretch. The movement pulls up his t-shirt, revealing a big slice of pale skin. Bucky reaches out to tug on the hem of his t-shirt, aiming to restore his modesty, but his fingers brush Steve’s stomach at the same time. Steve, in one of the hottest things Bucky’s seen in his life so far, actually does a full body shudder, and his eyes close for a second. He turns to look at Bucky, his mouth open slightly, hair mussed up from sleeping on it. 

“Buck,” he whispers.

Honestly, it would be stupid _not_ to kiss him. Bucky slides his hand around Steve’s waist, up under his t-shirt, feeling the way Steve shivers under his touch. His other hand tucks under Steve’s chin, guiding him in gently before they kiss, slow and sweet. It only lasts a few seconds, before Steve pulls back and turns away from Bucky. 

“Shit,” he mutters, and Bucky’s heart sinks.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have-”

“Shhh,” Steve hisses, looking around frantically. “I gotta blow my nose.” He finally spots a tissue box that isn’t empty and lunges for it. Bucky tries not to laugh while Steve blows his nose determinedly, before finally crawling back over to him. 

“Better?”

Steve nods. “Much.” He gives Bucky a sleepy, lopsided grin, and Bucky feels it like a punch in the gut. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Steve tells him, and Bucky just nods. 

They end up sprawled out on the bed, side by side, kissing lazily while they run their hands over one another. They’re both still fully dressed, but neither of them makes a move to take anything off. After a little while, Steve gets sleepy again and soon it’s just Bucky stroking his palm softly down Steve’s back, or running his fingers gently through his hair while Steve makes soft appreciative noises in his dozing state. Eventually Bucky falls asleep too, his arm draped over Steve’s waist. 

\--

It’s late when they wake up, the sky gone dark. Steve snuggles into the warm, solid shape of Bucky and smiles when he feels a heavy arm tighten around him. 

“I should go,” Bucky mutters, and Steve frowns. He puts his own arm around Bucky, pushes his knee between Bucky’s thighs.

“Nope. You’re staying.”

Bucky laughs softly, and Steve presses his ear to Bucky’s chest to listen to it rumble. “Yessir, Cap.”

Steve smiles and hugs him tighter. “Thanks for coming.”

“Hey, anytime.” Bucky cradles his head and kisses his hair. Steve feels more safe and happy and wanted than he has in a long, long time, maybe even since before Peggy left. Honestly, he doesn’t remember feeling this good since before his mom died. 

“I - I’m really glad to hear that,” Bucky says softly, with a hitch in his voice, and Steve realizes suddenly that he was saying it all out loud.

“Oh god,” he mutters, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Laughing, Bucky tilts his head up and kisses him, soft and chaste. “I’m gonna put the light on, okay? If we’re gonna sleep we should actually get ready for bed, and you need more Tylenol.”

Steve groans and rolls away from him. “God, you’re worse than Sam.”

“He’s your friend, right? The one who helps out?” He can hear Bucky fumbling around in the dark, then his lamp clicks on. 

“Mm, that’s him,” Steve mutters, throwing his arm over his face. “Augh, I feel so gross.” He feels the mattress shift as Bucky rolls back towards him. Fingers press soft at his hip, then Bucky’s mouth leaves hot kisses on his stomach. Steve groans and pushes up into it, savoring the scrape of stubble on his skin. “Slightly less gross,” he says, smiling when Bucky laughs against his stomach.

“Come on.” Bucky clambers off the bed and reaches back to offer him a hand. “I’m gonna make you some tea.”

Bucky force feeds him camomile tea with lemon and honey, then makes him eat a little more soup and swallow another dose of cold meds. 

“My mom would’ve liked you,” Steve tells him while Bucky washes up again. He insisted, and Steve really tries not to feel guilty about it. “She was a doctor.”

“Explains why you’re such a terrible patient,” Bucky says, poking his tongue out at him. “You don’t talk about her much.”

Steve shrugs. “Not much to say. The only one of my friends who really knew her was Peggy, and she moved back to the UK in the summer.”

“You guys were dating, right?” Steve looks at him sidelong, pretty sure he’s never mentioned that. “Sorry,” Bucky says, catching the look and giving him a rueful smile, “just a stab in the dark.”

It’s starting to become obvious that Steve isn’t gonna be able to hide _anything_ from Bucky, but he’s also starting to realize that maybe it’s not a bad thing. “Yeah, we dated for a couple of years.”

“She’s the first person you slept with, right?”

Steve laughs self-consciously, certain he must’ve turned bright red. “What are you, the psychic chef?”

“All chefs are psychic, don’t you know anything?”

“Apparently not.” He’s starting to feel worn out and dizzy again, and he also can’t stop thinking about kissing Bucky. “I’ll be back in a second,” he says, getting to his feet. “I gotta pee.”

As soon as he’s safely sequestered in the bathroom, Steve sits down to pee so he can text Sam.

**{Sam sam sam}**

**{Don’t wear it out :)}**

**{Bucky is here}**  
 **{Hes so fucking hot oh god im losing my mind}**

**{WHAT THE FUCK STEVE}**  
 **{HOW WHAT HAPPENED???}**  
 **{THAT’S AWESOME/INSANE WHAT ARE YOU DOING}**

**{im sick and he came to look after me bc your not here}**

**{woah}**  
 **{woah steve that’s huge}**  
 **{is he there now?}**

**{yeh im in the bathroom}**

**{well get out there and kiss him already!}**

**{nooo i tried. too sick D:}**

**{ok idk what you want from me but im being called for family time}**  
 **{SORT THIS ONE OUT YRSELF}**  
 **{but also call if you need me obvs :)}**  
 **{AND BE SAFE}**

Steve hurriedly finishes up and brushes his teeth, hoping Bucky won’t notice how long he’s been. When he goes out, Bucky is in the kitchen, pouring soup into bowls and covering them with plastic wrap. 

“Hey,” he says, turning that gorgeous smile on Steve again. “I couldn’t find any boxes so-”

“No that’s great, thank you.” Steve leans against the doorframe, mostly because he thinks he might fall down otherwise. “God, Bucky, thank you so much, for all of this.”

“You’re welcome, dweeb.” Bucky drags his eyes over Steve, and he gets a serious look on his face. It’s an expression Steve knows only too well, from Sam, Peggy, his mom. 

Steve sways, and Bucky grabs for him again, concern flaring in his eyes. “Okay,” he says, back to the serious expression. “You are going to bed.” He puts Steve’s arms around his neck and bends down to pick him up. Steve’s too weak and sleepy to complain, way past the point of indignity, and it’s too close to his Stucky height difference fantasies to say no. Bucky’s stronger than he looks, and he cradles Steve close as he walks them across the apartment to Steve’s bed. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Bucky says quietly, after he’s tucked Steve into bed. He runs gentle fingers over his forehead, through his hair. 

“No,” Steve murmurs, reaching for his hand. “Stay.” 

Bucky sits on the edge of the mattress and his hand slides down to Steve’s shoulder. “You want me to read to you?”

He’s aware that he must look like a dumb little kid, but Steve just smiles up at Bucky and nods, because he can’t think of a single thing he wants more in the world right now than to curl up beside Bucky and listen to his voice while he falls asleep. Bucky goes over to where he dropped his bag and pulls out a toothbrush and some sweatpants. “I’ll be back in two minutes tops,” he says, saluting Steve with the toothbrush. “Don’t fall asleep til I get back.”

Steve thinks maybe he _does_ fall asleep, because it seems like he just closes his eyes for a second and then Bucky is back, comfortable and warm in a t-shirt and sweatpants, wriggling under the comforter beside him. He has a book in his hand, but Steve’s already taken his glasses off so he doesn’t bother trying to read it, he just tangles his legs up with Bucky’s and curls in close to his body heat. 

“Okay,” Bucky says quietly, and leans in to kiss Steve’s eyebrow. “We got up to the part where Humbert goes to get Lola from camp, right?”

Honestly, Steve hasn’t got a clue, but he nods sleepily and pushes his fingers up against Bucky’s stomach. Bucky starts to read, and within minutes Steve is dead to the world. 

\--

>   
> **ohmysergeant** posted _just the truth_
> 
> “Steve and Bucky should snuggle more.”  
>  \- _like, everyone, at some point_
> 
> #just sayin #stucky #although steve kicks #and bucky gets awkward erections #and he’ll deny it but steve definitely snores #no way will i believe that’s just asthma #but lbr bucky talks in his sleep anyway #probably about how much he loves steve #and would do anything for him #saps #pictureofhealth  
> 

\--

Steve wakes up from a dream, and keeps his eyes closed, trying to force himself back into the sensations. But the harder he tries, the faster it slips away, until he’s left with just the impression of being held, someone’s arms around him. Slowly, he opens his eyes and tries to roll over, but he finds that there’s nowhere to go. With a start, he remembers the previous night, remembers Bucky getting in bed with him, and he sits up. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at Bucky’s smiling face. “You’re still here.”

“You said stay, so I stayed,” Bucky whispers back. 

Steve kicks him. “Don’t quote Groundhog Day, oh my god. You’re such a dork.”

Bucky cackles with laughter and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist again so he can drag him back into the mattress. “Shit,” he says breathlessly, still laughing. “I preferred you sleepy.”

“Liar,” Steve mumbles, wriggling up against him. “Augh, I’m so stuffed up.”

“I’ll get you some meds.” Bucky releases him and goes into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. On his way back, he picks up the cold meds from the desk and drops them in Steve’s lap. “Here,” he says, sitting crosslegged on top of the covers. “Take two.”

Steve does as he’s told, and glances at his phone. “Shit, is that the time?” He pushes himself up against the pillows and looks around him, bewildered. “Did you - oh my god did you _clean_?”

Bucky looks embarrassed. “Just a bit. I woke up pretty early and you were still sleeping, I didn’t wanna wake you up.” His mouth curves into a wry smile. “I got breakfast too. You hungry?”

“I guess,” Steve says, looking around uncertainly.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says, seeing his hesitation. “I didn’t move anything, just kinda - cleared a path so you won’t trip over and break your neck. And don’t hit me, but I cleaned the kitchen.”

“God,” Steve groans, slumping back into the pillows. “You’re the worst. Why are you so amazing? Seriously, you need to stop taking care of me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans in to ruffle Steve’s hair, then he jumps off the bed. Steve just glares at him. It should be illegal to be that energetic. “Come on,” Bucky says in a chirpy tone. “Let’s eat, and we can work out what we wanna do today.” He starts to walk away, then he pauses like something just occurred to him, and he turns back to lean on the edge of the bed with both hands. “Hey, so last night was pretty much one of the most romantic dates I’ve ever had.”

Steve blushes. “Nope.”

“It really was.”

“Oh god,” Steve groans, rubbing at his face. “Shit, Bucky, that’s really sweet, but I’m disgusting right now. Let’s talk romance after I shower, please?”

Laughing, Bucky leans forward and kisses him roughly on the cheek, stubble scraping pleasantly on Steve’s skin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Steve staggers to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, grateful that he doesn’t have snot encrusted all over his cheek, which is what he woke up to the day before. He can hear Bucky making tea or something in the kitchen, and he can’t help but smile at how domestic it feels, how _right_ , even though there’s barely room for one person in this apartment, let alone two. He tries to do something about his hair, but it stubbornly sticks out at all angles anyway, unlike Bucky who seems to have woken up with perfect bedhead. It’s not surprising. Everything else about the way he looks is perfect. 

He steps out of the bathroom and finds Bucky getting settled on the couch with tea, OJ and fresh bagels. Steve crosses the room so fast he almost falls on his face, and climbs over the coffee table to get at the food. 

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a bite of bagel. “ _Fuck_.”

“Woah, woah.” Bucky laughs at him. “You gotta take these first or you’ll forget, c’mon.” He watches Steve swallow his meds, and Steve is all ready to yap at him for staring when he actually looks up and catches the look on Bucky’s face. It’s gentle and yearning and _shit_ , Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at that way. Like he’s important. Like he’s the _most_ important. He has to look away, hiding his blush behind a glass of OJ. “I should tell fandom,” Bucky says, picking up a bagel for himself. “They’d be so delighted to find out that Captain America really does swear like a sailor.”

“I’m not Captain America,” Steve points out.

Bucky grins. “Close enough. I think I like you better anyway, I bet the ‘real’ Cap isn’t so cuddly.”

Steve snorts with laughter, and winces when he gets some juice up his nose. He grabs for the nearest box of tissues and ignores Bucky laughing at him. “I think it depends who he’s cuddling.” He glances over at Bucky again. They’re sitting a couple of feet apart on the couch, and he feels the awkwardness that he was too tired for yesterday. 

“So who does he like to cuddle?” Bucky asks, his voice light. He picks up his tea and drinks some. 

Steve shrugs. “I think he’s more cuddly than you think, but I bet he just melts when Bucky’s around.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, gaining confidence. “I bet Bucky’s the only one he feels really safe around, and he knows Bucky won’t make fun of him, he’ll just-” He fumbles, but Bucky finishes his sentence for him,

“-just do his patriotic duty, right?” he says, grinning. 

Steve laughs, and because it’s his turn, he shifts along the couch closer to Bucky, and just smiles when Bucky puts an arm around his waist.


	9. Pour some sugar on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aannnnd now back to angst again.
> 
> NO I'M KIDDING PLEASE DON'T HURT ME :x

**{u still alive?}**

**{yes MOM}**   
**{but really yeah sam i’m cool ty for asking :)}**

**{good, smartass. he still there?}**

**{just left, he’s got work tomorrow}**

**{dude, he came all that way just for one night?}**   
**{he’s a keeper}**

**{yeah think you might be right}**

**{so?}**   
**{WHAT HAPPENED}**

**{nothin :3 I mean we kissed some, mostly we just watched movies and took naps}**

**{shit you guys are too adorable}**   
**{still want me round tomorrow?}**

**{yeah! bring yr own entertainment, bucky cleaned my kitchen and bathroom}**

**{marry him}**

**{seriously considering it}**

\--

_**pictureofhealth** is online_

**pictureofhealth**  
oh my god i just had the first shower since you left and it was like the freaking rapture

 **ohmysergeant**  
everyone died and most of them were consigned to eternal damnation?

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah

 **ohmysergeant**  
hot  
also I like that my leaving causes you to go into a three day stink protest

 **pictureofhealth**  
what can i say, you inspire me

 **ohmysergeant**  
<3

 **pictureofhealth**  
you know what though  
i hate when you realize your elders were right

 **ohmysergeant**  
OH GOD I KNOW

 **pictureofhealth**  
‘a hot shower will make you feel a hundred times better’  
‘drinking lots of water is good for you’  
‘you should try kissing other boys’

 **ohmysergeant**  
L O L  
your mom really said that to you?

 **pictureofhealth**  
you know what  
she actually did

 **ohmysergeant**  
she sounds really awesome :) 

**pictureofhealth**  
she was :)   
hey can i say something  
that. well, I just wanna tell you something

 **ohmysergeant**  
uh oh?

 **pictureofhealth**  
no no!  
not a bad thing  
I hope!

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay :)

 **pictureofhealth**  
I just wanted to tell you that I really wish i’d kissed you more when I had the chance.  
I hope you don’t mind?

 **ohmysergeant**  
are you kidding  
if you hadn’t been sick I’d have been all over you omg  
It’s not even about you being sick, I’d kiss you no matter how snotty and gross you are, I just didn’t wanna force myself on you when you were feeling shitty

 **pictureofhealth**  
jfc buck no forcing needed  
seriously  
when can we make out again

 **ohmysergeant**  
ha :D whenever you like cutie

 **pictureofhealth**  
are you free this weekend??

 **ohmysergeant**  
mannn I have to work D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
what time?

 **ohmysergeant**  
uhh 7-2 Saturday, 9-2 sunday  
you wanna come up? :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
are you sure that’s okay?

 **ohmysergeant**  
more than!  
are YOU okay though? don’t come if you’re still sick, I don’t want you to get worse

 **pictureofhealth**  
I’ll be fine :>

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay :D  
I can drive you back after class on Monday if you want

 **pictureofhealth**  
no way dude! that’s like. an eight hour round trip!?

 **ohmysergeant**  
yeah like I care

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay look I’ll buy a one way ticket and we can work out the rest later?

 **ohmysergeant**  
cool :)   
oh, my housemate will be here so there’s no spare bed i’m afraid  
but I’ll take the couch!

 **pictureofhealth**  
dude no  
I’m not kicking you out of bed  
anyway we shared a bed at my place, i’m okay with it if you are :>

 **ohmysergeant**  
:D I’M SO OKAY WITH IT

 **pictureofhealth**  
would it be a problem if i came up on friday? i have an early class and I kinda wanna spread out the travelling as much as I can  
but I don’t wanna overstay my welcome!

 **ohmysergeant**  
Friday is awesome! I can make you dinner :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha, sold!  
okay, I really gotta get some work done now   
seeing as I’m gonna be busy this weekend!

 **ohmysergeant**  
:x

_**pictureofhealth** is offline_

\--

“Are you sure about this?”

They’re at the park, because Sam insists that it’s part of his remit to make sure Steve gets some fresh air every couple of days. They’re both wrapped up warm for the weather, Steve especially so, mostly because Sam insisted, but partly because Peggy knitted this scarf for him and he’ll take any excuse to wear it. The sun is out even if it’s not making the city any warmer. Steve has sunglasses on with his wooly hat, protecting his tired eyes from the wintry glare. He still feels groggy from the aftereffects of his cold, but the fresh air is helping him feel more refreshed and he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with ice.

“I think-” he starts, then hesitates. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Sam grins at him. “Well the dude already has my vote after last week.”

Even Steve smiles at that, remembering how Sam was a hilarious mix of horrified and impressed when he found out that a guy Steve has only ever spoken to online drove all the way from Boston just to take care of him for two days. “Is this a really stupid idea?”

“What’s more stupid?” Sam asks, turning to look at him. “Trying your luck with someone who makes you feel good about yourself, or passing it up because it’s scary?”

“So I’m stupid either way?”

“Hell yeah, dumbass!” Steve yells, and claps him on the shoulder. “At least be the kind of stupid that gets laid!”

Steve looks away and bites his lip. “I dunno, I’m kinda worried about that.” He doesn’t need to say why, not with Sam, and he’s absurdly grateful that the one person who knows best how to help and support him when he’s sick is also his best friend.

Sam’s hand stays on his shoulder, comforting. “Just take it one day at a time,” he says calmly. “He knows about your ME, right?” Steve nods. “Then he’s probably done some reading on his own time. Just talk to him, Steve. He seems like a decent guy, he’ll understand.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I am. Also, just how many hours a day do you guys spend talking? You’re not gonna get sick of each other just because you don’t have sex for a couple of weeks.”

Steve starts laughing despite himself, and he shoves Sam away half-heartedly. “You’re too invested in my sex life.”

“You should stop bringing it up if you don’t want me to be interested,” Sam says, poking his tongue out. “All I’m saying is maybe a little sugar would do you good, but it’s not everything.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You’re welcome.” He stands up, putting his hand out in case Steve needs it, but he shakes his head and Sam smiles. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Come on,” Sam says. “I’ll buy you lunch, you can tell me more about your boyfriend.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Tell me that again after the weekend.”

\--

Steve’s stomach is in knots the whole journey to Boston, and more than once he wonders if he’s making a huge mistake. He visited Boston once as a kid, before his dad died. He doesn’t remember much about it beyond the hot press of the baseball stadium, his first banana milkshake, and riding on his dad’s shoulders in the crowd. He has a printed out map in his pocket to the coffee shop Bucky works at, but as they’re pulling into the bus station, he sees a familiar figure in a dark green coat waiting inside, and his heart turns over. 

Bucky wraps him into a hug as soon as he’s off the bus, both of them grinning fit to burst. Bucky’s arms are warm and tight around him, and Steve snuggles into it for longer than he probably should. Now that his cold is clearing up, his sense of smell has come back, and he breathes in Bucky’s comforting scent for the first time; coffee and cinnamon gum and citrus shampoo. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks quietly, tucking his face into Bucky’s neck and swallowing down the briny scent of his skin, enjoying the rub of stubble against his cheek.

“Natasha let me go early.” He loosens his death grip on Steve’s chest as he laughs at himself. “I was too excited to see you, I was totally useless at work.” Steve pulls back to look up at him, and Bucky reaches up to brush the hair out of his eyes. His thumb grazes over Steve’s eyebrow. “You look a lot better,” he says softly. “You feeling better?”

“A little,” Steve says, shrugging. He really doesn’t want to talk about being sick right now. “Buck? Remember how I said about wishing I’d kissed you more?”

Bucky frowns and he shakes his head. “Sorry, you’ll have to remind me.”

“I can do that.” Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s jaw and stands up on tiptoe. He gets close enough to lean in, and pauses, breathing him in. 

“Gonna keep me waiting all day?”

“Nossir,” Steve mutters, and pushes his smile against Bucky’s. They kiss softly, clutching at each other without urgency. When Steve pulls away, he has the biggest grin on his face, and looking at Bucky is like seeing it in a mirror. 

“Come on,” Bucky says, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pointing out the exit. He bends to pick up Steve’s backpack before he can complain, and swings it up on his other shoulder. “We’ve got a lot of kissing to do, and I’m not doing it all in a bus station.” 

They start walking, and Bucky chatters about the week he’s had, and asks Steve about his, even though they’ve talked every day since he left New York last Thursday. 

“So you said your housemate would be around?”

“Yeah, but not ‘til late, he works in a bar. So, we've basically got the place to ourselves.” He grins and nudges Steve with his elbow. “What d'you wanna do?”

Steve wets his lips nervously. He loves this feeling, of having all the time in the world stretched out in front of them, and he hasn't the slightest clue where to begin making the most of it. Bucky senses his hesitation and carries on talking. “You wanna do a museum or something? Take in some sights? Or we could just hang out at my apartment?”

“You wouldn't find that boring?”

“Not if you're there.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Yeah, I know. Mean it though.” His hands are swinging loose at his sides, and Steve reaches out to grab the nearest one with his own. Bucky turns a brilliant smile on him and squeezes his hand back.

“Is it far to your apartment? “

Bucky shakes his head. “Not far, but we can get a cab if you're tired.”

“No no,” Steve says quickly. “I've been sitting down long enough, I could use the exercise.”

“Okay, just tell me if you gotta rest.”

Steve sighs and finds his expression settling into a frown without his permission. He knows Bucky is just trying to help and he appreciates it, he does, but he can't help feeling smothered by the concern. He is a little tired but he'll be fine once they get there and he sits down for ten minutes, it's just that travelling wipes him out. If Bucky notices that Steve’s pace slows at all, he doesn't mention it, just alters his own pace to match. After a couple of minutes they pass a coffee place, and Bucky hesitates, giving Steve’s hand another squeeze. 

“I could use a drink, you want something?” He grins. “My treat?”

Steve agrees and lets Bucky drag him through the door. While Bucky orders them both coffee, Steve takes a seat in the corner and pulls out his sketchbook. He draws a quick sketch of Bucky standing in line, lingering over the long, lean lines of his calves and thighs. His long hair is tied back in a messy bun and Steve sketches that too, wanting to loosen it and run his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He hopes he'll get the chance later. 

“Can't keep your eyes off me?” Bucky says as he comes to the table with a tray. 

Steve shakes his head. “Not a chance.”

Bucky takes the seat beside him and pushes Steves latte over to him. “Can I see?” Steve likes that he asks permission first. He pushes the sketchbook towards Bucky and resists the urge to feel embarrassed. “You just did this just now?” Bucky asks, sounding surprised. “These are great!” He flips the page and laughs. “Man, you made my butt look incredible.”

“Yeah, it really needs the help,” Steve says with a snort. Bucky elbows him gently, but he seems pleased as he pushes Steve's sketchbook back. 

\--

When they reach the apartment, Bucky puts Steve’s bag down in his bedroom and cracks a joke about having changed the sheets for him. "So, I'm an honored guest," Steve says, a little disappointed that the sheets won't smell like Bucky.

“You bet,” Bucky says, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. "Make yourself at home, I’m gonna take a shower. I smell like a kitchen."

“There are worse things.”

Bucky grins. "You need anything?"

"Uh, I could use a glass of water if it's okay."

"Yeah, I think I can stretch to that," Bucky says with a smirk. He fetches Steve a drink, then he crosses the room and pulls off his sweater, dropping it in a laundry hamper in the corner. Steve watches as his t-shirt rides up with it, revealing his stomach: the puckered line of an appendectomy scar, the thread of dark hair that leads down beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Steve swallows and looks away, resisting the urge to ask if he can go too. He wants to get his hands on Bucky desperately, but he also doesn't want to rush anything. He's fucked things up with people before by being too quick to jump into bed. But Bucky sees where he's looking, and he gets this dangerous smile and takes a step towards Steve.

“You wanna join me?” he asks in a low, husky voice.

Steve's eyes go wide as Bucky walks towards him, gets close enough to kiss. He slides his hand onto Steve’s waist, making him shiver, and his head tips forward until their foreheads touch. “We probably shouldn't,” Steve whispers. “I mean, we should talk about it first.”

Bucky nods and digs his fingers into Steve hair. “Then just let me kiss you,” he mutters, pushing his mouth against Steve's cheek, waiting for permission. Steve turns his head and kisses him, running his fingers up Bucky's ribs, pushing at his tshirt. Bucky laughs and squirms against him, and Steve takes advantage of the moment to touch Bucky's lower lip with his tongue. With a noisy, urgent moan, Bucky pulls Steve against him and kisses him harder, open-mouthed and desperate. Steve abruptly rethinks his plan of waiting. They've already been waiting for months as it is. 

“Buck,” he mutters, pulling away slightly. “Bucky, wait.”

His eyes flick open, heavy with concern, and he backs off quickly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Steve nods and licks his lips slowly. “Fuck, you're an amazing kisser.” 

“Thanks, you too.” Laughing, Bucky shifts his hand on Steve’s waist to let him move away. Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, and waits for Bucky to join him. 

“Listen uh. I don't know how much you know about ME but - well, it's different for a lot of people anyway but for me, sometimes I - I find it difficult to have sex.” Steve looks away, cringing. He’s gotten used to having this conversation, and it’s not really awkward unless one of them makes it so, but he still hates having to go through it all. “It's not all the time but it usually comes in phases when I'm really sick, and it can last a couple of days, or weeks. It’s hard to predict.”

Bucky reaches over and puts his hand on top of Steve’s. “Okay, I get it.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Okay, first thing’s first. Do you want to have sex with me?”

Steve ducks his head, and his mouth curves into a bashful little half smile. He looks over at Bucky and nods. “Yeah, I do.” His smile widens to match the grin on Bucky’s face. “Like, a _lot_.”

“Good start,” Bucky says, squeezing his hand. “Me too. So, where are you on the phases of the moon right now?”

“I'm not sure,” Steve says with a frustrated shrug. “I'm pretty tired this week, from being sick, but - well.” He glances down at his lap where his dick is quietly making its presence known. “It seems to be cooperating right now.”

Bucky laughs and leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek, his hand warm on the side of Steve’s neck. “Okay, here's where I stand. I think you’re awesome and hot and basically one of the best people I’ve ever met. So, yeah, I’d love to kiss you some more and have sex with you if you want to, but I also just really enjoy hanging out with you.” Steve looks over at him and Bucky smiles encouragingly. “Seriously, if nothing else happens, I’m happy just being your friend.”

It seems impossible that Steve can have stumbled across someone this amazing just by chance, but he’s willing to take it. He realizes that he’s just sitting there, gazing adoringly into Bucky’s eyes, so he gets to his feet and pulls Bucky up after him. “You said something about a shower?”

It’s exactly the right thing to say, judging by the way Bucky’s eyes widen, his pupils huge against the bright blue of his irises, and his hands move to Steve’s hips seemingly without consulting his brain first. Steve reaches up to pull him down for a kiss, because he’s been promised some serious making out, and _dammit_ he’s gonna get it. They take their time undressing one another, and Bucky tells him each time he finds a little piece of Steve he’s been obsessing over, “I must’ve looked at the picture of this tattoo a hundred times,” he whispers, brushing his fingers over Steve’s collarbone before leaning in to kiss his neck softly. “It’s so fucking hot.”

“Mm, that feels nice,”Steve moans, and pulls him closer, fingers in his hair. Bucky’s hands skim over his sides, making Steve gasp and push up against him. “Ticklish,” he mutters apologetically. Bucky smiles and does it again, and Steve shivers. He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans; Bucky is already out of his, and as soon as Steve has his pants undone he slides his hand between them and presses it over Bucky’s dick, half hard in his boxers. Bucky moans and seeks out Steve’s mouth to kiss him fiercely.

“Are you sure about this?” he gasps, voice uneven as Steve continues to stroke him gently, flesh getting thick and full under his fingers. “We don’t have to, I really don’t mind.”

“I do,” Steve growls, and bites Bucky’s lower lip. 

“Fuck,” Bucky moans. “Fuck, come on.” He takes Steve’s hand and leads him into the bathroom. It’s messy but fairly clean, and Bucky must notice the look on his face because he grins and says, “What, you didn’t think I’d clean up with you coming to stay?” He switches on the shower and puts his hands in Steve’s back pockets, and while they make out with slow, languid movements, pushes his jeans down over his ass. Steve reaches down himself to shove them over his thighs and step out of them. And then it’s just them in their underwear in the tiny bathroom. Bucky grins at him and grabs the waistband of his own boxers. 

“On three?” he asks, his face alive with challenge.

Steve nods. “On three.”

They both count, “One, two three-” and at the same moment they both ditch their underwear. Bucky lets out a low whistle and Steve blushes and wraps his arms across his chest. “Quit it.”

Bucky swoops in to kiss his cheek, and uncurls one of Steve’s hands. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Come on, shower’s warmed up by now.”

They cram into the shower cubicle, pressed together under the spray. Bucky leans back against the cold tiled wall and pulls Steve against him so they can kiss. Bucky feels amazing under his hands, and Steve traces his fingers lightly over the scar on Bucky’s abdomen, his bellybutton, the dark hair that leads down.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “Are you-”

“Bucky so help me, if you ask one more time if I’m sure-”

He laughs breathlessly and grabs Steve’s wrist so he can push his hand against his dick. “Actually, I was gonna ask if you’re gonna let me blow you, because I’ve been thinking about it at least five times a day for a week.”

Steve is relieved Bucky’s still holding onto him or he thinks he might just crash down onto the floor right there. “Holy shit,” he mutters, wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s dick and leaning up to kiss him hard. 

Bucky groans and reaches around to grab Steve’s ass, pulling him in close. “Can I?” he whispers breathlessly against Steve’s wet mouth. 

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, “fuck, yeah, please-”

Bucky turns them around, pushing Steve back against the wall, before dropping to his knees and nuzzling his face against Steve’s dick. 

“Shit,” Steve hisses, pushing his fingers into Bucky’s hair. “Should I - should I put a condom on?”

“Am I gonna catch something?” Bucky asks, looking up at him through the spray.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve only slept with like, three people in the past year. I know I’m clean.”

Bucky flashes him a slice of a grin. “Then no.” He scrapes his nails over Steve’s hip. “I wanna taste you.”

There’s no response Steve can give to that, except to nod and try not to make an embarrassing noise as Bucky’s mouth closes around his dick. His hands hold on tight to Steve’s hips, pinning him in place while he pulls Steve into his mouth, tongue lapping slow and forceful against the underside. Steve covers his face, then slides his fingers up into his own hair. He remembers Bucky telling him once that he was amazing at blowjobs and - yeah, he wasn’t wrong. It feels so good, Steve wants to _cry_. 

After a minute, Bucky pulls off and replaces his mouth with his fingers, touching and stroking in the same rhythm. “Steve,” he says gently. Steve realizes he’s biting down hard on one knuckle, and he lets go and looks down at Bucky’s earnest expression. 

“Uh huh?” 

“You don’t have to keep quiet,” Bucky says, stroking Steve’s thigh with his free hand, scooting around to touch his ass. The light-fingered touch makes him shiver. “I’d like it if you made some noise.”

“Oh shit,” Steve groans, bucking up against him. Bucky swallows him down again with a soft moan caught in his throat, and Steve whimpers loudly. He’s so fucking turned on now, more than he has been in a long time, and if Bucky wants to hear it, he’ll damn well hear it. He has one hand tangled in Bucky’s hair, one in his own, and the sounds he makes aren’t even close to words, but Bucky seems to enjoy it anyway. Steve quickly realizes that he’s been thinking about this so long, that Bucky’s mouth is so hot and slick and _right_ , he’s gonna be lucky to make it more than three minutes, but he can feel also his body resisting him, and he starts to panic. 

“Buck, I’m not sure I - I dunno if I can-”

Bucky slips off again and nuzzles at his hip. “It’s okay,” he says gently, getting to his feet. Steve grabs for him and they kiss, heated and messy. “We’re not in a rush,” Bucky says, stroking his cheek. “We’ll take it as slow as you need to.”

Steve nods, trying to steady his breathing again. Bucky doesn’t grab at him or try and hold him too hard, just waits for Steve to come back. 

“Let me do something?” Bucky says once Steve has calmed down, taking a half step away and reaching for a bottle of shampoo. He squeezes some out on his hand and gestures to Steve’s hair. “Turn around?”

Steve does as he’s told, closing his eyes and letting himself be petted. Bucky’s fingers slide into his hair and tease lovingly at his scalp. Steve doesn’t even _try_ and hold in a moan. “Shit, that feels amazing,” he whispers, as Bucky massages his fingers through Steve’s hair, just enough pressure to help release the yawning ache in his head he gets when he travels. Bucky is standing a little apart from him, but every so often one of them sways towards each other, and his dick will push up against Steve’s ass, skimming up to press into the small of his back. Maybe it should feel insistent or demanding, but it’s just comforting. Steve’s already spent months worrying that Bucky wouldn’t feel the same way, wouldn’t find him attractive. He’s not about to turn his nose up at proof that he was wrong. 

Bucky’s hands slip down to massage his neck and shoulders, and Steve lets his head fall back onto Bucky’s right shoulder with a groan. Laughing softly, Bucky turns his head and kisses him. He keeps it chaste, but Steve surges into him, deepening the kiss, turning in Bucky’s arms to get more. They move sideways into the spray as Bucky runs his slippery hands down Steve’s back, and the water plasters their hair to their heads. With a gentle but firm touch, Bucky tilts Steve’s head under the shower and uses one hand to work out the shampoo, while he bends his head to kiss and bite the side of Steve’s neck. 

It’s too much, and not nearly enough, and Steve starts rutting up against Bucky’s hip without really meaning to. It doesn’t seem to be a problem for Bucky, who just moans loudly into his shoulder and thrusts back. He gets Steve pinned against the wall again and moves against him slowly, dragging their hot skin together while he gets one of his hands around Steve’s skinny thigh and pulls it up around his hip. 

“Shit,” Bucky groans, kissing him hard. “You’re so amazing, you’re so good, Steve.”

The praise hits him hard, and he moans and scrabbles at Bucky’s shoulders, trying to get closer even though there’s no amount of closer to be. “Fuck, Bucky, please, keep talking-”

Bucky laughs, the sound strained, and nips at Steve’s shoulder again. “I wish you knew how beautiful you are,” he growls, hands holding him tight. “God, do you have any idea how hard it was to sleep in the same bed as you last week and not just put my hands all over you?”

“I got - some idea,” Steve gasps, rocking into him. Bucky laughs again and turns his head so he can kiss Steve’s throat, suck on his adam’s apple. 

“Well I ain’t fuckin’ holding back this time,” Bucky says, hitching his leg a little higher. Steve strains up on tiptoe, and all of a sudden Bucky is reaching for his other thigh, and at his urging, Steve jumps up and wraps both his legs around Bucky’s waist. “ _Shit_.”

“Oh fuck, Bucky, _Bucky_.”

“Good thing you don’t eat enough,” Bucky says, mouth on his throat, “you barely weigh a thing.”

“That’s not true,” he gasps, half-laughter, half-moan. It is true, a little, but he’s always been self-conscious about being small and weighing as much as a bag of sugar. The thought that Bucky _likes_ it - Steve feels his body surging again, resisting, and he grits his teeth and takes a deep breath. “Buck,” he whispers, “kiss me, please?”

Bucky doesn’t wait to be told twice. He tilts his head up and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth, then pushes his tongue in and kisses him slowly. It does the trick, and Steve feels the urgency in his body give way, feels himself tumbling over the edge. He tucks his face into Bucky’s neck, a packet of broken noises collapsing from his throat as he shudders and shoots his load against Bucky’s stomach. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky moans when he feels it. He clutches Steve tighter, thrusting up against him faster. “Holy shit, fuck, Steve, _Stevie_ -”

He makes a lot of noise when he comes, which is hot as _fuck_ and also makes Steve really glad there’s nobody else home. They shiver against each other for half a minute, then Bucky’s arms start to shudder and he lowers Steve gently onto shaking legs. “Fuck me,” Bucky whispers, holding Steve’s face between his hands and kissing him lovingly. “You’re incredible.”

They stay in the shower for another ten or fifteen minutes, soaping up and running lazy fingers over each other, now that they’re finally allowed to touch. Steve feels like maybe he should regret jumping straight in with Bucky instead of taking it slow, but he doesn’t, not the slightest bit. Eventually the shower runs cold and they both stagger out. Bucky wraps them both in a huge fluffy towel and kisses him again, their skin clammy where it presses together. 

“Glad we got that outta the way,” he says, kissing Steve’s eyebrow. “Now I can touch you as much as I want.”

Steve growls and grabs his ass. “Damn right.”

Bucky laughs and they make out for a couple of minutes, still wrapped up together, then Steve’s stomach growls loudly and they break apart, giggling. 

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says, ruffling Steve’s damp hair. “I can take a hint. Come on, let’s get dressed and I’ll make you some dinner.”

\--

After they eat, Steve wolfing his down like a starving man, Bucky pulls him onto the couch and gets him undressed again, pausing to kiss every pale, shivery inch of him on the way. By the time he gets Steve down to his underwear, Steve is whimpering and pushing up against him, hands moving restlessly over Bucky’s sides and through his hair. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, when Bucky sucks a hickey onto the inside of his thigh. He tightens his fingers in Bucky’s hair so much it hurts. He gives a little yelp, and Steve releases him with a whispered apology. “Shit, Bucky. I haven’t been this turned on in _months_.”

Bucky smiles into the curve of his hip and scrapes his teeth over Steve’s skin gently. When it gets a positive response, he does it again a little harder. “When’s the last time?” he asks, looking up at Steve with a sly grin. 

Steve puts an arm under his head so he can look down. He meets Bucky’s eyes, his expression serious even though his face and chest are flushed. “That time on the phone,” he says quietly. “I-” He hesitates and laughs at himself. “I really liked you talking dirty to me.”

"Yeah? I can do a whole lot more of that." Steve shudders and pushes up against his hands. He licks his lips slowly and Bucky groans before reaching out to touch his mouth. "God, I can't believe you thought I wouldn't find you hot." 

“Well, maybe I thought you’d be smarter. Or have better taste.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah, I’m afraid you’re exactly my type. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Steve laughs and bats him away, but Bucky just grabs his wrist and shuffles in closer. “Quit teasing me.”

“Mm let’s see, there’s smart-” Bucky kisses Steve’s chest, “-and talented-” the side of his neck, “and beautiful-” the corner of his mouth. Steve moans and kisses him properly, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck to pull him on top. 

They scramble apart at the sudden sound of a key in the lock, and Steve frantically tries to grab for his clothes. “You said he wouldn’t be back until later,” Steve hisses, trying to cover himself up. There is literally _no time_ to make it look like they weren’t having sex on the couch, so Bucky just stands up, hiding Steve as much as he can with his body, and pastes on a scowl as the door opens and Clint walks in. 

“Oh, shit,” Clint says, grinning. “You must be, uh - Steve, right?”

“Uh, hey,” Steve says in a small voice from behind him. 

Bucky puts his hands on his hips, and tries not to notice when Clint’s eyes drop to his crotch. Oh, yeah. He’s totally sporting wood right now. “You said midnight,” Bucky says accusingly. 

Clint glances at the total lack of a watch on his wrist and shrugs. “I did? Sorry, guess I got my shifts mixed up. Don’t worry,” he adds quickly. “I’ll be in my room, you won’t even know I’m here.”

He grabs himself two beers from the fridge and disappears into his bedroom, with a last backward wave in Steve’s direction, who is still cowering under his screwed up jeans. “Shit,” he says passionately, when Clint’s door slams shut. 

Bucky groans. “I am so, so sorry.” He turns around to find Steve with a look on his face that’s halfway between stunned and amused. “That is Clint.”

“Shit,” Steve says again, a smile curling his mouth as he looks up at Bucky. “He’s gonna think I’m a total slut.”

“Well,” Bucky says, climbing back onto the couch and pulling Steve’s clothes off him. “He already knows you seduced me over the phone, so I think your reputation’s already pretty tarnished.”

Steve laughs, covering his face with his hands. “Oh, god, shut up.” He glances over at Clint’s door. “Shouldn’t we go in your room?”

Bucky shuffles down and noses at Steve’s bellybutton. “Nah,” he says, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower gel on Steve’s skin. “I owe him some payback anyway.” This time, he’s already decided, he’s keeping his mouth on Steve’s dick right until he comes.


	10. warning: explicit m/m content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm don't ask me why it took me over a week to write 4000 words of glorified porn. On the plus side, there's more action coming up v soon. Also cutes.

When the alarm goes off at five forty-five the next morning, Steve rolls over and buries himself in the pillows with an angry huff. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky mumbles, shutting it off quickly. He presses his hand between Steve’s bare shoulders and pushes his hair aside with his nose so he can kiss the back of his neck. “Go back to sleep,” he whispers, running his palm gently down Steve’s back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

The touch makes Steve shiver, and he rolls over with a disgruntled noise, into the warmth of Bucky's body. He throws his leg over Bucky’s hip, trapping him against the mattress. "I gotta go to work," Bucky says, laughing quietly against Steve's throat. Steve makes another noise of dissent and Bucky pushes his fingers under Steve's t-shirt and strokes his stomach while kissing the side of his neck. "Natasha will definitely kill me."

"She'll never find you," Steve mumbles, pressing in closer. "You can live in my bed."

"I've seen how gross your bed is," Bucky whispers. He drags his fingers through Steve's hair, kisses the corner of his mouth. "Fuck, I wish I could call in sick but she already knows you're here."

Steve grins. "Maybe you sprained something?"

Bucky groans. "I've had enough sprains already this year. Plus, I’d have to fake it for at least a week."

"Okay, okay," Steve mutters, shuffling down under the covers while he reaches into Bucky's underwear, "you slept through your alarm."

"Steve, wait - oh shit-"

Bucky makes the most beautiful noises when Steve goes down on him. Steve doesn't try and tease, focusing instead on getting him off hard and fast, Bucky’s fingers stroking over his neck and through his hair, tugging at his t-shirt. 

When he can feel Bucky shuddering under his fingers, he pulls off and scrapes his teeth over Bucky's hip while he jacks him with his hand. "You wanna come in my mouth?"

Bucky whimpers loudly, hips jerking up. "Stevie," he moans, "are you _fucking_ kidding me?"

Swallowing his laughter, Steve ducks his head again and pulls Bucky's dick into his mouth with a twist of his tongue. "Christ, Steve," he gasps, "you're so good, shit - you're amazing, oh my god, Steve - Steve - Stuh, uh, _uhhh_ -"

His voice falls in on itself, a fractured moan that makes Steve shiver. Bucky spills into his mouth, and Steve swallows reflexively, his eyes shut tight while Bucky's nails dig into his shoulders. He pulls off when Bucky has stopped shaking, crawling up to kiss him while he presses their bodies together. Bucky kisses him back, gentle and deep, cradling Steve's face in his hands

"God, you're perfect," he mutters, nipping at Steve's bottom lip. 

Steve chuckles and snuggles into him. "Sure, apart from the -8 eyesight and the chronic fatigue syndrome-"

Bucky kisses him before he can continue, and Steve sighs and relaxes into it. He's seriously regretting not just meeting Bucky months ago, but better late than never. "Shut up, Steeb," Bucky says, rolling away from him slightly. He reaches down between them and squeezes Steve's dick through his boxers. He's not really hard, and the rush he got from listening to Bucky moaning his name is already fading a little.

"You don't need to," he says awkwardly.

"I know I don't _need_ to, dummy," Bucky says with a dopey smile.

Steve just shakes his head and pushes Bucky away gently. "No, I mean don't," he says with a crooked smile to show it's okay. "I don't think I can, anyway. You kinda wore me out last night."

“Okay.” To his relief, Bucky just nods and leans in to kiss his forehead. "Honestly, that's a relief, because as much as I wanna pull you apart right now, I'm already late."

"Pull me apart?" Steve says, laughing. "Like a zombie horde?"

"Sure," Bucky says, shimmying down to gnaw at Steve's belly. "I'll be the rabid horde, you be the survivor, and when I catch you, I'll tear your limbs off and suck your brain out through your dick."

Steve bursts out laughing. "Where’d you pick up your dirty talk? The Walking Dead?"

"Fanfic." He presses one last stubbly kiss just below Steve's bellybutton, then rolls over and climbs out of bed. "God, okay, I gotta run. Go back to sleep."

"Mmkay," Steve mumbles, slumping into the pillows while Bucky tiptoes around. He vaguely hears the shower running, and the door opening and closing quietly, but he’s already half asleep. 

When he opens his eyes again, the sun is pouring into Bucky’s bedroom, and the other side of the bed is cold and empty. He yawns and stretches, looking around at his blurry surroundings. His phone and glasses are on the nightstand and he reaches over to grab them. It’s almost ten thirty, and he has a bunch of messages from Bucky. 

**{walking to work and FREEZING MY BALLS OFF}**  
 **{sorry for keeping you up so late ;D I hope you get some sleep!}**  
 **{gonna have so many awkward boners at work today}**  
 **{oh god bucky shut up boners are not romantic}**

Steve tucks himself into a ball, grinning like an idiot. 

**{how's work? staying awake? :3}**  
 **{ps there's something wrong with your bed dude}**  
 **{oh wait no my mistake. its just that you're not in it cuddling me}**

He gets himself out of bed and pulls one of Bucky’s sweaters on over his pyjamas. It's too big for him, but it's warm and smells of Bucky, and Steve sighs happily and rolls the sleeves up over his slim wrists. The apartment is quiet, Clint presumably still sleeping, so Steve helps himself to some coffee and goes back into the bedroom. Bucky’s room is a lot tidier than his own; clothes folded neatly, books stacked on the shelf, no lethal trail of homework and comics on the floor. Steve looks through the bookshelf curiously, and is delighted to find that Bucky is into sword and sorcery novels. 

He takes one down from the shelf and can’t stop himself laughing at the guy on the front cover, rippling muscles and a loincloth. He tells himself very firmly not to make fun, and instead climbs back in bed to read, curled up in sheets that smell of Bucky and him. He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep, the book splayed on his chest, until his phone starts ringing. He fumbles awake, digging the phone out from under him with clumsy fingers. 

"M'lo?" 

"Steve?” Bucky sounds amused. “Did I wake you up?"

Steve stretches. "Nah. I was just reading, dozed off I guess. Time is it?"

"Eleven thirty. Couple more hours, then I'm gonna hug the shit out of you. How're you feeling?"

"Pretty good.”

“Yeah? You sleep okay?”

"After you’d stopped crushing me.”

Bucky laughs loudly. “Yeah, thanks a lot. At least I don’t kick like a mule.”

“Poor thing, you must be exhausted."

"I'm used to running on fumes,” Bucky says, still sounding amused. “I’ll be fine. You talked to Clint yet?" 

"I don’t think he's-" Steve hesitates when he hears another door open. "Wait, scratch that, he’s up.”

Someone shouts in the background, and Bucky groans. “Okay I gotta go, but help yourself to anything in the fridge, and I’ll pick up some lunch on my way home.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“Yeah - oh! And if you talk to Clint, just make sure he’s got his hearing aid in or he can at least see your mouth, otherwise he won’t have a clue what you’re saying.”

Steve sits up straight. “Wait, what? You didn’t tell me he’s deaf.”

“Oh, sorry? I guess I didn’t think about it, he usually wears his hearing aid anyway.” Bucky sounds uncertain. “Uh, is it a problem?”

“What? No!” Steve says, laughing. “I had hearing problems when I was a kid, and I had a deaf friend in school, so I know how to sign. I mean, I’m kinda rusty, but-”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s so cool!” 

_”James!”_

“Okay, I really gotta run, but go talk to him!” 

Steve grins. “I will. See you later.”

He hangs up and tucks his phone in the pocket of his pyjama pants before he steps out of the bedroom. Clint doesn’t appear to be in the living room, but Steve can hear noises from the kitchen. He walks over to the doorway and smiles when Clint looks up. “Hi,” he says, waving at the same time, before spelling out his name. “I’m Steve.”

Clint grins and signs back as he speaks. “Nice to meet you, dude. James didn’t tell me you were deaf!”

Steve is surprised for a moment by the name, before remembering that nobody else but him knows Bucky as _Bucky_. While he explains about knowing sign language, Clint gets out an extra mug for the coffee and starts making toast. He offers some to Steve, angling a jar of peanut butter towards him.

“You got jelly?” Steve asks, and Clint grins. He fetches his hearing aids while the toast is cooking, so they can talk while they’re eating. When they take their breakfast through to the other room, Clint hesitates before sitting down. 

“Is there anywhere I shouldn’t sit?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve. 

“Aw, jeez, I’m really sorry about last night,” Steve says, flushing bright red. Clint just laughs at him, and Steve grins. “I mean, the whole couch is pretty much a hazard zone to be honest.”

“Bravo,” Clint says, cackling, then throws himself down anyway. He picks up a toast triangle and shoves half of it in his mouth, chewing messily. “Hey, you mind if I ask something?” he asks, before swallowing. “You don't need to answer.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Clint eyes him for a long moment before he speaks. “Why’d you put off meeting for so long? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you guys finally got your shit together, I’ve lived with that asshole for nearly three years and I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve says, looking down at his toast as he feels his cheeks heat up again. “I don’t really know where to start. It’s nothing to do with Bucky though. I mean, James.”

“It’s not you it’s me?”

Steve smiles crookedly. “Yeah, pretty much.”

There’s a brief pause, then Clint slaps him on the knee and picks up his toast. “Well, you’re here now,” he says, and Steve appreciates the out. Clint moves the conversation onto college and music and general stuff, and for a while they just chat and drink their coffee. Steve decides pretty much straight away that he likes Clint, who’s friendly and easy to talk to. It might have something to do with the fact that Bucky mentions him almost every day, but it’s also clear how much Clint cares about Bucky from the way he talks about him, and that goes a long way for Steve’s opinion of him. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Steve says when his phone starts buzzing. “Hang on.”

**{tell me u got laid}**

Steve laughs, and Clint raises his eyebrows. “My friend Sam, checking up on me.”

**{like a patio}**

**{YESSSSS HI5 DUDE}**

Clint stretches, yawning loudly, and Steve can’t help himself looking, just a little. Clint’s pretty cute, for all he’s kinda tall and gangly. A little part of him wonders if he and Bucky ever - but then he stops himself, because even if they have, it’s irrelevant and it’s absolutely none of his business. He knows Bucky will tell him if it’s important. 

“I’m still hungry,” Clint says, putting his hand on his stomach. “You like pancakes?”

\--

Bucky gets a little worried when he leaves work and there’s been no word from Steve. He tries calling, but neither Steve or Clint pick up, so Bucky opts to skip groceries and walks home instead.

What he finds when he gets home is not exactly what he was expecting. Steve and Clint are sharing a huge takeaway pizza, and there's a photo album open on Steve’s lap that looks remarkably like the ones his mom has at home, stuffed full of pictures of him and Becca as kids. 

"What the hell happened here?" he says, slamming the front door behind him. There's stuff everywhere, and the apartment smells vaguely like something exploded, while Steve and Clint are sitting in their pyjamas, giggling. 

"Hey dude," Clint shouts casually. “Sorry about the kitchen. Turns out neither of us can make pancakes.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Bucky says while he slips off his sneakers.

Steve just looks up with a guilty smile. "You had braces."

Bucky groans and throws his shoes at Clint. "You bastard."

" _Braces_ , Bucky," Steve says, a little wild-eyed. Bucky barely hears him over Clint's yelling, but he's starting to recognize that look, and it means he needs to get Steve alone ASAP. He also realizes that Steve is wearing one of _his_ sweaters, and it makes his heart do a funny little jump in his chest.

"My room, now," Bucky says, pointing at Steve. "Leave the baby photos."

"Aw, Bucky."

"Nope." 

“But you’re dressed as a tiger!”

“No, Steve.”

“Fine.” Steve gets up off the couch with a mutinous look on his face, and Bucky scowls at Clint. "Bad roommate," he says sternly. He darts forward and grabs the remains of the pizza from the table before Clint can stop him. 

When he goes into his room, a slice of pizza dangling from his mouth, Steve is sitting on the edge of his bed with his hands on his knees. "Bucky?"

"Mmhm?"

"You were _so cute_ as a teenager."

Bucky snorts, and quickly chews his pizza mouthful before he does something endearing like spit it everywhere. "Alright, creeper."

"Not like that," Steve says, rolling his eyes. He gets up and comes over to where Bucky's standing and pushes the door shut. "But I really, really wanna make out with you right now."

Bucky swallows and glances down at the pizza in his hand. Steve laughs. "Fine, fine, eat first. Then you're mine."

He eats his pizza and changes out of his work clothes, while Steve straightens up the bed and settles down with his back to the headboard. When Bucky takes his pants off, Steve whistles, and Bucky throws him a dirty look over his shoulder. “You are still in the doghouse, mister.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks the picture of innocence. “What did I do?”

“Uh huh, ‘what did I do’, he says.” Bucky climbs onto the bed, prowling towards Steve on all fours. He leans down and kisses Steve’s bare ankle, smiles when it makes him shiver. “How did Clint even _get_ those pictures?”

“He said he just asked your mom, last time you guys went to stay.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “My mom has the most embarrassing crush on Clint.”

“I can see why.”

Bucky gasps dramatically and throws Steve a horrified look. “In my own home!”

Laughing, Steve reaches out to pull him down onto the bed, and they end up having a long, lazy makeout session. Bucky’s still got the morning’s fumblings on his mind, couldn’t stop thinking about it through his entire shift, so it doesn’t take much of Steve’s gorgeous mouth moving against his own before he’s painfully hard in his underwear. He keeps his hips angled away from Steve though, not wanting to push or suggest anything more than Steve is okay with. It doesn’t seem fair somehow that he got off while Steve didn’t, and while he’s more than willing to balance the scales, he’ll wait to be told first. 

After fifteen minutes or so of kissing and smiling stupidly at each other, Bucky keeping his hands firmly above the waist, Steve groans and tries to drag him closer. “God, Bucky, you’re allowed to touch me,” he says, sounding a little wild. 

Bucky nods uncertainly. “Okay, but what if-”

“I’ll tell you if I need you to stop, okay?” Steve says, and kisses him firmly. 

“Alright,” Bucky says, sliding his hand down over Steve’s chest while he kisses the edge of his jaw. “Let’s play hot and cold.”

“Hot and cold?” Steve huffs, laughing softly. 

Bucky nods, moves his mouth to Steve’s right ear. He rubs his thumb in a circle around Steve’s bellybutton. “You tell me where you want me to touch you. If it’s warm, you like it, if it’s cold, not so much. And if it’s hot, I’m probably gonna put my mouth there.”

“Oh - okay,” Steve says, swallowing hard. He slides down a little so he’s lying flat on the bed at Bucky’s urging, and his hands fall to his sides. His sweater and t-shirt are pushed up to the base of his ribcage, his pyjamas slipping down to reveal his hipbones, sharp against his soft, shallow stomach. Bucky smoothes his palm over Steve’s belly, loving how much of it he can cover if he spreads his fingers. Steve feels so perfect in his arms; delicate and small, but at the same time warm and vibrating with life. He half expects kissing him to feel like licking a battery. “Warm,” Steve says, smiling at him. Bucky grins and moves his hand around a little, scrapes his nails over Steve’s side. Steve shivers. “Very warm.” 

He keeps going, moving slowly, taking his time. Steve whispers _Hot_ when Bucky thumbs over his nipple, so he follows it with his tongue. The back of his knee is cold, his toes too, and Bucky accidentally discovers that Steve has a mean kick when he’s ticklish. Luckily he manages to get mostly out of the way when he pulls the sweater off and runs his fingers over the inside of Steve’s elbows. “C - cold?” Steve gasps, and Bucky can tell he’s holding himself down, trying not to flail. He carefully wraps his hands around Steve’s wrists and gently presses a kiss to the soft skin, just below the bend of his elbow, where you’d put a needle to take blood. Steve moans softly and goes rigid against him for a moment before relaxing. “Warm,” he mutters, his wrists flexing against Bucky’s grip. Bucky leans up to kiss him before letting go. 

Steve’s breathing goes a little ragged when Bucky drags his pyjama pants down and finds the warm spots on the inside of his thigh, the slope of his hip, the point where the soft blond down on his belly roughens into his pubic hair. He strokes his fingers over Steve’s dick, feeling how hard he is through his underwear, and Steve chokes out a moan, “God, hot, _hot_ , Bucky, fuck-”

Bucky doesn’t wait to be told twice. He yanks Steve’s underwear down and tosses it over his shoulder, then scoots down between Steve’s thighs and licks his dick from bottom to top like an ice lolly. When he reaches the top, Steve whimpers, and Bucky hesitates long enough to flash him a filthy smile before letting Steve’s dick sink into his mouth. He pushes his hand under Steve’s thigh, propping it up with his shoulder so he can reach around and grab his ass. 

“Oh, fuck, _yeah_ ,” Steve moans, his hands making fists in the sheets. His hips jerk, and Bucky squeezes his ass and sucks him down harder. “Hot, hot, _hot_ ,” Steve says in a breathless gasp, and laughs when Bucky starts chuckling, careful to keep his teeth off Steve’s skin. “Yeah, like that, Buck,” he says, his voice cresting back into a moan, “yeah, I like it when you use your hand too.”

It’s surprisingly hot having Steve tell him what to do; Bucky’s never really had someone be so chatty in bed before, and it’s nice to be told when he’s doing something right, or how to make it better. At Steve’s instruction, he speeds up a little, moaning at the feeling of Steve’s dick in his mouth, straining against his tongue. 

“Fuck, Bucky-” Steve whines, struggling to keep his hips on the mattress. “God, I wanna fuck you, _fuck_ , you wanna screw me? I’d like that, like you to fuck me-”

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, sliding his mouth off Steve’s dick so he can stretch his jaw, ease out the ache of keeping it locked open. “Steve, what the _hell_?” he says, grinning up at him. “You should give some kinda dirty talk seminar.”

Steve groans and rolls his hips, jabbing Bucky in the cheek with his cock, which makes them both giggle. “Sorry if I’m - uh, kinda intense,” he says in a shaky voice. “Been a while.”

Bucky nuzzles into his hip, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s dick and humming happily into his warm, soft skin. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he says gently. “I’m having the best weekend of my _entire life_.”

“Me too,” Steve says, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He sighs and shifts his weight again, and Bucky takes the chance to press his hand further under Steve’s ass. He strokes one slow fingertip from the small of Steve’s back down to his tailbone, and Steve shivers. “Warm.” Bucky pulls his hand free and licks his middle finger, then he slides back down and strokes his fingertip over Steve’s hole. Steve groans and whispers, “Hot?”

A smile spreads on Bucky’s face like honey dripping. “You sure?”

Steve wriggles; uncomfortable, embarrassed. “I need a shower.”

Bucky nods gently. “Okay. You wanna do that now, or-” He ducks his head to run his tongue along Steve’s dick, press a quiet kiss to the head. 

“Fuck,” Steve moans, “fuck, I don’t know.”

“We’re not in a hurry, you know.”

Steve sighs, frustrated. “I know, but - you said you like that, and I - I really wanna try it.”

“Come on,” Bucky says, getting to his knees and reaching for Steve’s hand. “I never got to finish blowing you in the shower yesterday, and I kinda wanna see how that turns out.”

\--

>   
> **pictureofhealth** posted _no title_
> 
> don’t laugh but I just had my first experience with rimming and oh. my. god.
> 
> send me all your steve/bucky rimming recs I am not kidding.
> 
> #tmi #personal #nsfw #shut up okay #i don’t think i’ll ever walk again #gonna have to spend all my time drawing stucky porn #what a shame #pls do not reblog #enough ppl are gonna see this as it is #stucky recs

\--

Clint has left for work by the time they drag themselves out of bed again, although he leaves a note stuck to the fridge with a decidedly NC-17 rated diagram on it, including a bunch of arrows and notes that look like they might be suggestions.

“Why’s he written ‘colorful’?” Steve asks, examining the fridge magnet letters while Bucky squints at the diagram. 

“You know, I don’t think I could get in that position if I _tried_.”

Steve glances at it. “I could. Seriously, why colorful?”

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t ask, it’s dumb. Are you really that bendy?”

“Yeah, I’m sorta semi-hyper-mobile,” Steve says absently. “Not quite double jointed, but pretty flexible. Good for yoga.”

“Huh.”

Steve pokes a few of the fridge letters around. “Like, dumb embarrassing, or dumb you just don’t wanna talk about it?”

“The first one,” Bucky says, tossing him a shy smile. “Nah, it’s just. God, I probably wouldn’t tell you if you were anybody else,” he says, reaching out for Steve. Steve goes over and snuggles into his arms, tucking his head under Bucky’s chin. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s chest, feeling it expand against him when Bucky sighs. “So, did you ever notice that if you just mouth the word colorful, it kinda looks like ‘I love you’?” Steve shakes his head. “Well, that’s just - how we let each other know we’re here, y’no?” 

Steve pulls back to look at him, but Bucky is looking off to the side, blushing. “Fuck,” Steve mutters, diving back in and hugging him harder. “That’s just - fuck. Fuck you guys.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes him tight. “Thanks a lot.”

“No seriously though, fuck you, you’re too perfect.”

“Don’t tell Clint that.”

Steve laughs. “Cross my heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone stop me shipping Clint and Bucky please, it's not helping


	11. When life gives you lemons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you rimming, didn't I? :3
> 
> Oh, but the tradeoff is angst.

“You’re disgustingly chipper today,” Natasha says while they’re opening up the coffee shop on Sunday morning. “Just how many orgasms have you had this weekend?”

Bucky grins at her. “Okay, first of all? Inappropriate workplace topic. Pretty sure this constitutes a hostile work environment. But seeing as we've had sex, I’ll waive my right to complain.” She pokes her tongue out at him and he laughs. “Second, like, four? Five? Oh no, yeah, five is right.”

Natasha looks impressed. “Shit, you boys _have_ been busy.”

“Well, I only get him for a couple of days,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Gotta make the most of it.”

She starts pulling down chairs to set them by the tables, and Bucky goes over to help. “So it’s getting serious?”

He laughs. “I dunno, it’s only the second time I’ve met him. It feels like it should be too soon to say yes, but-” He hesitates, and thinks about Steve snuggled up in his bed when he left, pale hair fanned out on Bucky’s pillow, and his stomach twists. “Yeah? Yeah, I think it is.”

Natasha gives him an indulgent smile. “I’m really glad you two worked things out. But try and keep the sappy smiles to yourself when the customers show up, okay?” Bucky stops what he’s doing to salute her, and she rolls her eyes. “Okay, good. Go do the prep.”

It’s pretty busy for a Sunday, so they don’t talk much apart from work as the morning rushes by. Bucky spends his break texting Steve and trying not to think too hard about how he looked last night, flushed and shivering with arousal under Bucky’s fingers. He’s thoroughly baffled and a little sad that Steve doesn’t seem to know how beautiful he is, but Bucky will happily make it his mission to make Steve believe it.

**{please tell me Clint isn’t showing you more baby photos}**

**{nah still inbed. readin porn on yr laptop}**

**{rimming? :p}**

**{pickin up tips. think i need 2eat more fiber}**

**{L O L}**  
 **{sweetheart i cannot wait to get home and get my tongue in your ass again}**

**{man didnt take us long to get from romance to sexting }**  
 **{not a complaint fyi. yr tong can do w/e it wants}**

**{GOOD also i know you’re jerking off i can tell by your shit syntax. STOP RIGHT NOW}**

**{D:}**

**{i want you all fresh and ready to go when i get in}**  
 **{GTG HANDS OFF}**

Brock turns up at one to cover Natasha’s lunch break, and slouches behind the counter with a scowl. “Play nice, boys,” Natasha says, pulling her coat on as she swans past them and grabs her purse from under the counter. She says it lightly, but she gives Bucky a particularly severe look as she breezes past, and he sighs and gives her a weary nod. Brock’s been more and more surly for the past few weeks, and Bucky’s pretty sure he didn’t want Natasha in the manager position. He’s also fairly sure Brock knows about him and Natasha having slept together, not that he’s ever said anything outright, but he’s hinted at it more than once. Guy’s just kind of an ass.

“You wanna take front or back?” Bucky asks, trying for a cheerful smile.

“Fuck off,” Brock mutters.

Bucky groans. “Look, man, I know we’re not friends but if you need to talk or anything, I’ll listen.”

There’s a moment where Brock stares at him, and he thinks he might have gotten through, but then he just draws on his near-permanent scowl and tells Bucky to go screw himself, so maybe not.

“I hate these fuckin’ half shifts,” he complains about five minutes later, while Bucky is making a tray of macchiatos. Bucky doesn’t reply; he’s kind of sick of trying to make conversation with Brock, not to mention he doesn’t wanna encourage more swearing in front of customers. Natasha’s pretty strict about that. "How come you got all these earlies anyway? She's sure as hell doing you some favors."

Bucky sighs. "Shut it, Brock. It's just 'cause of college."

"On the weekend."

"You've heard of homework, right?"

Brock just makes a tch-ing noise and turns away from him again. Bucky sighs and stares down at the tray of coffee cups. Just forty-five more minutes, then he can get the fuck out of here and the fuck away from Brock's miserable face. They studiously ignore one another until Natasha gets back, except to pass on orders. When she walks in, she takes one look at Bucky's forced smile and Brock's determined pout, and rolls her eyes.

"You might as well come and grab your things," she tells Bucky. He follows her into the back room, hoping this isn't going to fuel Brock's stupid ideas about them, and Natasha closes the door behind him. "What's going on?"

"He's a total asshole, that's what." Bucky scowls and kicks a chair. "I dunno what he's got against me, but ever since you got the manager position-"

Natasha groans. "Shit, I thought so."

"But he didn't even apply for the job!"

She shakes her head. "No, stupid, what happened at the same time as me getting the job?"

Bucky just looks at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then, "Oh. Oh, shit, he's jealous?"

"Look, this doesn't go any further, but I think he's had a thing for me for a while."

"Poor you."

Natasha shakes her head. "People have feelings, that can't be helped, but there's no excuse for behaving like a caveman." She takes a deep breath and runs her fingers through her hair, pulling it back up into a ponytail. "Okay, tell me if anything happens between you two, as soon as it happens. I need to talk to Nick about this. Just try and stay out of his way."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"No, he'll be worse if you're here," she says, sighing. "I'll try and mix up the shifts, get the others in more so you don't have to work with him."

Bucky reaches out to touch her shoulder. "Thanks, Natasha. For what it's worth, I think you're a really good manager."

She laughs and reaches up to pat his hand. "Thanks. You should really just find a better job, then we can hang out without having to be in this place."

"What's your excuse?"

She grins. "That's a secret. Go on, get out of here. I can handle Brock."

Bucky's laughing as he picks up his bag. "You know what, I believe that."

\--

When Bucky gets home, Steve's drawing on the couch, the TV turned down low in the background. He jumps up as soon as he hears the key in the door, and darts over to fling himself into Bucky's arms as soon as he's though the door.

"Holy shit," Bucky laughs, staggering as Steve hits him full force.

"Clint went out to meet his girlfriend," Steve says, putting his hands inside Bucky's coat and pushing it off his shoulders. He tucks his face into Bucky's neck and kisses the underside of his jaw, rubbing his mouth against the stubble on his neck.

"Uh huh, did you by any chance mention that we were gonna have sex on the couch again?"

Steve shrugs and starts unfastening Bucky's jeans. "I think he assumed."

"Are we?" he asks, lifting his arms when Steve starts yanking up his t-shirt.

"Don't care where," Steve says, a little breathless. "Just get your fucking clothes off."

Bucky laughs and pulls his shirt the rest of the way off so he can fling it across the room. His hands come up to hold Steve's face, and then they kiss, sweetly at first, until Steve shoves his hand in Bucky's underwear, and Bucky makes a desperate noise into his mouth and kisses him harder. Steve drops to his knees abruptly, yanking Bucky's pants down to his knees and nuzzling his cock through his boxers.

"Holy fuck," Bucky moans, running his fingers through Steve's hair. "I'm glad to see you too, dude."

Steve tugs Bucky's underwear down and pulls his dick out, feeling it firm up in his hand, while Bucky's fingers tug gently in his hair. "Been thinking about doing this all morning," Steve confesses, rubbing Bucky's dick against his cheek.

"Not complaining," Bucky groans. "Seriously, you know I'd have been okay if we didn't have sex this weekend, this is all a bonus."

"Wanna make the most of it while I can," Steve says, not looking at him. He partly means before he has to go back to New York, and he partly means while he feels physically able to have sex at all, let alone five times in three days, but he hopes Bucky gets it anyway.

Bucky slides his back down the door until he's crouched in front of Steve, subtly pulling his underwear back on, and he leans in to kiss him softly. "Hey, we don't need to be in a hurry. I still wanna see you again, as often as I can, we'll have plenty of other chances." Steve puts his arms around Bucky's neck and hugs him tight, letting out a long sigh when Bucky's arms come around his back to hold him. "You don't need to prove anything to me, okay?"

Steve nods awkwardly, burying his face against Bucky's bare shoulder. It feels like his chest is full of things he wants to say to Bucky, but it feels stupid to say them now, in the middle of the afternoon, both of them crouched half naked on the floor. He wonders if he'll be brave enough to say them if they stay up late, if he whispers them into Bucky's ear while they're half asleep.

"What's on your mind?" Bucky mutters, running his fingers down Steve's spine.

Steve shivers, presses closer. "Just wondering how I got so fucking lucky."

Bucky laughs under his breath and squeezes him tighter. "You and me both." He pulls back a little and strokes his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "Still wanna make out?"

"So much," Steve mutters, and grabs for Bucky's thumb with his teeth. He bites it gently, watches the lust burn in Bucky's eyes in response. "You?"

In response, Bucky gets to his feet and hauls Steve up after him. He kicks his shoes off and then his jeans, and Steve almost _moans_ just at the sight of him in nothing but his underwear and his socks. He's still wearing his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt himself, but when Bucky reaches out and puts his hands on Steve's hips, he lifts his arms for Bucky to pull his shirt off. He's always been self-conscious about his body, his string of exes always nagging at him to eat more, sleep more, telling him he's too skinny. Even Peggy had a tendency to mother him, running her fingers over his prominent ribs with a worried expression.

Bucky doesn't say a word about it. He gathers Steve against him with warm hands, his touch reverent and eager, as if he can't get enough. Steve doesn't think he's ever felt so plainly _wanted_ , for all of who he is, not just as something to screw. "Fuck," Bucky whispers, ducking his head so he can kiss the side of Steve's neck, following it down to his shoulder, then his collarbone. "I could look at you all day."

"That might get a little creepy," Steve says, grinning. "Hey, you wanna go out for dinner? Clint said we could go meet him and Kate if we wanted."

"You want to?"

"I could do with some fresh air," Steve says grudgingly. "Sam's been nagging at me to go outside and he's not even here."

Bucky grins and strokes Steve's bangs off his forehead. "I like this Sam guy."

"Yeah, he thinks you're pretty great too. I feel like the creepy middle man in your romance."

"Aw, sweetheart, you're not creepy." Steve bats him off and Bucky laughs and wraps his arms around Steve's waist. "Hey, you like being picked up, right?"

"Uh huh," Steve says a little warily.

Bucky ducks slightly and puts his hands on the back of Steve's thighs. "C'mon," he says, grinning. "Up you get."

Laughing, Steve puts his hands on Bucky's shoulders and jumps up, feeling his stomach surge when Bucky grabs his thighs to haul him up, supporting him with his arms. He wraps his legs around Bucky's waist, sighing happily when Bucky cradles him close. "Okay, yeah, this gets hotter every time," Steve says shyly.

"Mm, that's how I feel about kissing you," Bucky mutters, nosing at his chin. Steve turns his head and catches Bucky's mouth with his own. He pulls Bucky's hair out of its loose ponytail, knotting it in his fingers while Bucky tongues at his lower lip, and Steve opens his mouth a little more to taste him. He's vaguely aware of Bucky walking them in the direction of his bedroom, but he doesn't really care where they end up, so long as it ends up with the two of them naked together.

Eventually they make it to the bed and Bucky puts Steve down carefully, covering him with his own body. He slips one hand down to grab Steve's ass while he laps over one of Steve's nipples with his tongue. "Fuck," Steve mutters, and bites his lip. He draws his knees up on either side of Bucky's hips, squeezing him between his thighs. "Bucky, fuck, I love your mouth-"

Bucky's laugh skitters over his chest, warm breath tickling his skin. "And my mouth loves you," he says, kissing across to Steve's sternum, and then following it down to his bellybutton. "Tell me where you want it?"

"God, you _know_ where I want it," Steve moans.

"Mm, maybe I do," Bucky says in a teasing voice. "You should remind me though."

Steve laughs under his breath. "God, fuck you." He pulls away from Bucky and rolls onto his stomach, pushing his butt up in the air. "Got it yet? I want you to put your tongue in my ass, Bucky. No buts." Steve grins to himself. "Well, just one butt."

Bucky bursts out laughing. "Okay, remind me again _why_ I wanna do you?"

"Buckyyy," Steve whines, wriggling uncomfortably.

Bucky lets out a shaky breath. "Ah, yeah, that's why."

His palm comes down on the small of Steve's back, pressure so light he can barely tell it's there, and Steve shivers. "No teasing, Buck," he says sternly. "I waited like you asked, and now I'm ready to fucking blow."

"Uh huh." Bucky's hand moves down to glide over his hip, then over his butt. Steve can feel Bucky shift on the mattress, settling down behind him, and his other hand comes up to touch Steve's hip. 

"You smell nice, you get all clean for me while you were waiting?"

Steve nods, cheek rubbing against the pillow. "Is that – that okay?"

"Mmm, don't have to use a condom this way." He presses his thumb down the knots of Steve's spine, sliding down to his coccyx. "Unless you want me to?"

"Only – if you want to. I don't mind."

He feels Bucky lean in closer, feels hot breath over his skin, making him shiver and clench his muscles involuntarily. "Fuck, that's beautiful," Bucky says, and ducks his head to bite, just above the crease where Steve's left thigh meets his ass. It's not hard, but it's hot as fuck, and Steve whimpers loudly. Bucky puts both hands on his ass, spreading him wide, and Steve feels his stomach tighten at the odd mix of excitement and embarrassment from being looked at so intently.

"Bucky-"

"Shhh," Bucky whispers, leaning in again and brushing the tip of his tongue over Steve's hole.  
Steve shudders, screwing up handfuls of the comforter between his fingers. "Oh my god." Bucky does it again, so soft Steve could almost think he'd imagined it but for the way it feels like electricity jolting up his spine. The touch makes him feel lightheaded and stupid, as if nobody's ever touched him there before, and he must seem like a ridiculous virgin to Bucky but he can't bring himself to care. Howard would probably have made fun of him for that. He's pretty sure Bucky never would.

Bucky pulls back and smoothes his hand in a circle over Steve's back. "You okay?"

"Don't _stop_ ," Steve moans, and Bucky laughs, close enough that Steve can feel it on the sensitive skin around his hole, and he shudders. "Please, Buck, it's so good."

"I'm not stopping, sweetheart, don't worry."

Steve groans, burying his face in the pillow when Bucky's tongue drags over his hot skin, from behind his balls right up to the base of his spine. He does it again, then once more, slower every time, lingering over Steve's hole each time he sweeps past it, before finally coming back to draw a circle around it with the tip of his tongue. His fingers dig into Steve's flesh, nails biting down, and then he's pushing his tongue inside, just a little at first, before he withdraws and sucks at it gently. It feels like nothing Steve’s ever experienced before, and he distantly wonders why the _fuck_ he’s never tried this. He remembers that Bucky likes having it done to him too and he exhales on a long, helpless noise. 

“That okay?” Bucky mutters, pulling back with a wet sound. “Stevie?”

“So good,” Steve says, trying to ignore the way his dick is _throbbing_ between his legs. “I ca - I don’t - fuck, just-”

Bucky laughs kindly and rubs over Steve’s ass with his thumb, circling it around the hot, twitching knot of flesh and making Steve’s hips jerk. He follows it with his tongue, darting around gently while his thumb pushes inside. “That okay?”

Steve nods vigorously. “Anything, Bucky, god.”

He works the first knuckle of his thumb in and out a few times, taking it slow, slicking the way with his tongue, until Steve is quivering, in need of more. Bucky pulls his hand away so he can grab at Steve’s ass again and push his face in tight. Steve hauls in a gasp of breath, shoving the knuckle of his middle finger between his teeth to keep himself from screaming when Bucky's tongue wriggles inside him again.

"Oh god oh _god_ ," he moans, shoving his hips back and his hand falling away from his mouth. “Bucky, _Bucky_ , shit, Bucky, Christ I love having you inside me, want you to fuck me so bad, _god_ that feels insane-”

He shoves his finger back in his mouth, half to stop the embarrassing shit that’s stumbling out of his brain and half because all he can think of right now is getting his mouth on Bucky’s dick and preferably never letting it go again. Bucky is moaning now, the sound vibrating into him, and he tugs on Steve’s hips in time as he thrusts his tongue inside. Steve already feels too close, and not even almost close enough; he thinks it’s gonna take him a little practise to come like this, and he’s desperate now for more. More than Bucky can give him like this. 

“Bucky wait,” he gasps, tugging his fingers out of his mouth. “Wait-”

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, pulling back quickly, his hands still lingering on Steve’s hips. 

Steve rolls over, wincing a little at the tightness in his calves and thighs, the rush of sensation to his dick as it bobs free. “Fuck. No, nothing’s wrong, I just - shit, I-” He gives up and reaches for Bucky, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s hair as he tugs him close enough to kiss.

“Hang on,” Bucky says, laughing as he turns his head. “Gimme a sec.” He scrambles off the bed and darts into the bathroom, and Steve shuts his eyes and presses his hand over his dick. It gives him a moment of relief but he has to bite his lip hard because he feels like he might come any moment. He takes a deep breath, pulls himself back from the edge, just as Bucky barrels back into the room and leaps onto the bed.

“Back,” he says, grinning as he climbs in between Steve’s thighs. “Mouthwash.”

“Fuck, just kiss me,” Steve groans, reaching for him. He pulls Bucky on top of him, wrapping his legs around him, gathering him in as close as possible. His dick is pressing hot up against Bucky's stomach, and he tries to move his hips and gain a little friction, but Bucky just kisses him, maddeningly slow. He pulls Steve's bottom lip between his teeth while he drags his fingertips over Steve's ribs. Steve makes an undignified sound and wriggles against him, and they both gasp when Bucky's dick juts up against his ass, sliding in the slick mess Bucky's left there with his mouth. 

"I-" Bucky says breathlessly, grabbing at Steve's thigh to stabilize himself, "I thought – maybe we should – take it slow?"

Steve groans and grinds down into him, and Bucky lets out a sound like a sob. "Do you _really_ wanna take it slow?"

"Fuck," Bucky whispers, his eyes shut tight. He bites his lip; Steve watches the flesh turn white. "No, fuck, _no_ , god I wanna fuck you-"

"Yeah," Steve breathes out, pressing his face to Bucky's, kissing his chin, his upper lip, the side of his nose. "Shit, do you even have – should we use a condom, to be safe?"

Bucky laughs, "Are you kidding me. Just because I didn't _expect_ we'd go this far doesn't mean I didn't prepare." He strokes the damp hair off his forehead. "We'll use one and we can go get tested next week or something, yeah?"

"Sounds good," Steve huffs, shifting against him. He runs his fingers down Bucky's back and laughs. "Shit, I can't believe I only met you last week."

"Yeah, you're a lot easier than I expected," Bucky says, pushing his nose into Steve's neck before biting at his collarbone. 

Steve laughs and wriggles in his arms. "I don't hear you complaining."

"Nah, never," Bucky says, looking up at him again, eyes heavy with intent. "Hold on a minute, okay?" He sits up and Steve watches him reach over and pull out the drawer next to his bed. Bucky frowns as he rummages through his clothes and comes up with a condom and a packet of lube. Steve watches as Bucky settles back between his thighs, his face writ with concentration as he carefully tears open the sachet of lube and coats his fingers with it. 

"Bucky-" Steve says, his voice coming out quieter and less steady than he meant for. Bucky looks up, worried eyes through the messy fall of his hair, and Steve grins. "I'm waiting."

"You little shit," Bucky says, laughing. He leans forward, grabbing one of Steve's legs and hooking his knee over his shoulder. "Tell me when you need more, 'kay?" It's all the warning he gets before Bucky's pushing his finger inside. It slips in nice and easy, strangely comforting after Bucky's already been working him over with his tongue and his thumb. Steve threads his fingers into Bucky's hair again, guides his head a little lower so Bucky's breath touches his dick, raising the hairs on his arms. "Want me to suck it?"

Steve moans. "Shit, yeah, you do it so good. God, give me more, Buck, please, I need more-"

Bucky doesn't wait to be told twice. He takes Steve in his mouth and uses the distraction to slide his middle finger in alongside the first. Steve lets out a long, contented sigh; it's just the right amount of pressure, the perfect balance of Bucky's hot, wet mouth and the strange satisfaction of being filled up. "God, Bucky," he moans, gathering up Bucky's hair in his hands so he can see his face, see himself sliding in and out of Bucky's mouth. He's trying not to move, not to force it, but he's desperate to rock between Bucky's mouth and his hand, overwhelmed by the sensations. 

For a few minutes, his entire world centers down to Bucky; his mouth and fingers, the pressure of his shoulder under Steve's thigh, the feel of his hair between Steve's fingers. He moans suddenly, feeling himself nudge over the edge onto the pleasure plateau, and he's torn between begging Bucky to slow down, and urging him on faster. Bucky must feel him tense, because he does slow his movements, sinking down on his dick until Steve feels the back of his throat, and his fingers graze deliberately over Steve's prostate. 

Steve comes spouting a string of unintelligible nonsense, fingers tight in Bucky's hair, Bucky's mouth still easing him through it although his fingers disappear. Steve feels wrung out and loose, and so happy he could cry, cocooned in Bucky's warmth and desire. He feels Bucky tug on his hips, hears the rustle of the condom packet, then Bucky is releasing his dick to crawl up his body. 

"Hey, Stevie," he mutters, kissing his chest and throat, lingering over the tattoo on his neck, "hey, you still with me, sweetheart?"

"Mmm, so good," Steve drawls, turning his head until he can get at Bucky's mouth and kissing him slow. "Y'gonna fuck me still?"

Bucky laughs, but it's strained and uneven. "Yeah, dude," he breathes, pushing himself up on his hands. "You ready?"

Steve nods, hitching his thighs up around Bucky's waist. "And waiting."

"Fuck, you're ridiculous," Bucky says fondly, and they're both still laughing as he pushes slowly inside and their laughter turns to moans. Steve holds his gaze, though his eyes flick down to Bucky's mouth; he's biting his lip again, and he grins when he sees Steve notice. "Feel okay?" 

"Perfect," Steve whispers, grinning back at him. He slides his hands up around Bucky's back, one catching at the back of his neck. Bucky leans down to kiss him, folding Steve's thighs up to his chest in a way that feels kind of uncomfortable, and yet reassuring at the same time, like being held in a tight embrace. 

"Can you breathe okay?" Bucky whispers against his mouth. "I'm not crushing you?"

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good."

"You've got _no_ idea how much I've been thinking about this," Bucky murmurs, as he starts to rock his hips against Steve's, gentle at first as they both get used to it. " _God_ you feel good."

"I think about it too, you know," Steve teases. "You don't have a monopoly on thinking about sex." Bucky laughs, and Steve sighs contentedly, pushing down to meet his next thrust. When Bucky moans loudly in his ear, it makes him light up inside. He lets Bucky take the lead, settling them into a slow, intense rhythm. For a few minutes, neither of them speaks, both drowning in the sensations. 

"Still okay?" Bucky's watching him closely, his face a mixture of affection and concern. 

Steve nods, then cradles Bucky's head in close and kisses his forehead. "I'm really glad we're doing this."

Bucky's smile could light up a room. "Me too."

"Don't laugh, but sometimes, when I draw fanart, I pretend it's you and me."

He expects Bucky to smile at least, but instead he just shudders and pushes in harder. "Fuck, Steve, fuck. God, that's crazy hot."

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah, fuckin' love the idea of you thinking about this as much as I do."

"Yeah," Steve moans, pulling him closer. "C'mon, Bucky, show me what you've been thinking about, huh? Fuck me harder c'mon-"

" _Steve_ ," Bucky moans, "Holy _shit_."

He shifts his weight on his arms so that he can get a better angle, and he thrusts in again harder. His hair is falling in his eyes, hiding them so Steve can't see them anymore, and he reaches up again to push Bucky's hair off his face. Bucky leans into the touch, his mouth open and gasping, then he moves forwards to bury his face in Steve's neck. 

"You're so hot, Buck," Steve mutters. He nips at Bucky's shoulder, scrapes his teeth over it, and Bucky whines and picks up his pace, fucking into Steve a little faster. "Yeah, c'mon, Bucky."

"Shit," Bucky says, laughing, "not gonna last - you keep talking like that."

Steve shakes his head. "Don't care," he says, putting his arms around Bucky's shoulders. "Make it last next time. Plenty of time, remember?" 

He nods, and Steve feels teeth digging into his neck, Bucky's arm wrapping tight around his waist, and he whimpers when Bucky fucks into him harder. His pace is slowing again but he's slamming home, letting each thrust settle a moment before dragging out again, sliding back in; quick shuddering breaths echoing against Steve's neck, his voice breaking on each messy exhale. Steve's toes have gone numb, maybe his feet too, but he doesn't care about anything beyond the feeling of _Bucky_ crashing over him like a wave. 

"Can I – can I tell you a secret?" he asks, in shaky gasps. 

Bucky nods, his quiet laugh just as uneven. "Right now, Rogers?"

"That time we talked on the phone," Steve says, forcing the words out. "When we-"

"Had phone sex?" Bucky supplies for him, and Steve hides his smile.

"Yeah. Uh, it wasn't – uh, wasn't the only time I jerked off – on the phone with you."

Bucky shakes, letting out a low, desperate kind of moan. "Oh – oh god, when?"

"Christmas," Steve whispers. "When you read to me."

"Fuck, Stevie." Bucky's arms tighten around Steve's ribs as his throat cracks out a sobbing sound. " _Fuck_ -"

Steve holds him tight while he shudders and whines through his orgasm, hips jerking once or twice and his face pressed in hot and close to Steve's. Bucky slumps down heavy and out of breath when he's done, half on him and half on the bed. Steve strokes his sweaty hair off his face and kisses his slack mouth, humming softly when it curves into a smile. 

"You're a menace," Bucky whispers, before pressing a couple of soft, lingering kisses on Steve's mouth. "I shoulda known."

Steve giggles, and snuggles in closer. "Nobody to blame but yourself."

"Guess not."

"Hey, Buck?"

"Mm?"

"Nothin."

Bucky nudges him, fingers trailing over his hip where he's ticklish. "C'mon, talk."

"God, it seems stupid now," Steve says, blushing. "I, uh. It's probably way too soon, or maybe it isn't, but-"

He hesitates again, and feels Bucky prop himself up on his elbow so he can see Steve's face. "Oh," he says, when he sees Steve's bright red cheeks, and he reaches up to stroke one with the back of his knuckle. "What is it?"

Steve shuts his eyes and lifts up his hands, so Bucky can see, and he carefully spells out the word _colorful_. He doesn't want to open his eyes; he's not sure if this is allowed, if he's trespassing somehow on Bucky and Clint's friendship, but it makes sense. Something about saying it with his hands makes it feel more real than saying the words in an orgasmic daze. There's a soft intake of breath, then Bucky's fingers close around his, and he looks up at last to find Bucky watching him, his eyes wide with surprise – but he doesn't look mad, or upset. He looks fucking delighted. 

"Me too," he says, rolling over to kiss him. He grabs Steve's face between his hands, putting his mouth anywhere he can reach. "God, Steve, so much." Steve laughs and hugs him close and they just lie staring stupidly into each other's eyes for a good five minutes. 

"I don't wanna go back to New York tomorrow," Steve says eventually, moving around to rest his head on Bucky's shoulder. 

Bucky sighs and strokes Steve's hair. "I don't want you to go either. But I'll come see you again, as soon as we're both free."

"Is this gonna work?" Steve asks quietly, finally voicing the worry he's been trying to bury for months. 

"Who knows, dude," Bucky says, after a moment's hesitation. "But I'm your soulmate, remember? Narcissistic jerks gotta stick together."

Steve's giggles surprise him, and he jabs Bucky in the ribs in punishment for calling him a jerk, then Bucky retaliates and it devolves into a kind of wrestling match where they both struggle to pin the other to the bed, and pause every ten seconds to kiss and grind up against each other. 

Eventually, they decide to get dressed and go meet Clint and Katie, but Bucky stops Steve at the door and pulls him closer by his coat. "We'll make it work," he promises, tucking his hands in Steve's coat pockets. "I'm gonna make this work."

Steve stands on tiptoe to kiss him, just once, gentle, and grabs one of Bucky's hands in his. "Yeah," he says, forcing a smile. "I know we will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I try not to write too many of those stories where they spend ages getting together and then they screw once and that's the end. I like to show more of the progression of the relationship if I can, when sex gets involved. This means a) more porn for you guys (yay!), but also b) this story is taking longer than I expected to complete. I suspect we're looking at about 15 chapters overall, which I'll try and get out as quickly as I can, so subscribe if you wanna be notified when the rest comes out! :)


	12. Do it for the vine

Saying goodbye to Steve the next morning is one of the shittiest things Bucky has ever had to do. He keeps tight hold of Steve's hand while they walk from his car to the bus station, and hovers close beside him while he buys a ticket.

Steve glances across at him, a cheeky half smile sidling onto his face. "You're not gonna start crying are you?"

Bucky laughs and grabs him up in a hug, wrapping his arms around Steve's slender waist from behind. "Over a dumb punk like you?"

"You're not fooling anyone, Barnes," Steve says, leaning into him. "I've seen your tumblr, remember? I know exactly how much time you spend crying over Steve Rogers.

"I hate you," Bucky whispers, pressing his face against the back of Steve's neck. Steve reaches up and puts his hand on the back of Bucky's neck, just for a moment, then he pulls away with a sigh. Bucky wonders if he doesn't like PDA, and he pulls away, stooping to pick up Steve’s bag for him.

"I can get that," Steve says, frowning a little.

Bucky shrugs as he pulls the strap over his shoulder. "Will it kill you to let me be a gentleman for thirty seconds?"

"It might," he says, but he keeps on smiling, so he doesn't mean it. They're quiet for a minute, and Bucky watches absently while Steve double checks the departure time and finds where his bus leaves from. "Quit it," he says eventually.

"Quit what?" Bucky says, reaching for his hand again.

Steve twists their fingers together like he's reaching for a lifeline. "You're staring at me."

"Sorry if I'm gonna miss you," Bucky says in a playful tone.

"You are?"

Bucky laughs, but Steve doesn't. He’s wearing a soft smile but he looks unsure, and Bucky realizes that he really _isn't_ sure. "Hey," he says, tugging on Steve's hand to make him stop. Steve only turns halfway towards him, and his expression is sad and uncertain, though he's trying to hide it. Bucky touches his cheek, and Steve starts to pull away, but then he stops.

"Sorry, I'm being stupid," he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

"What, just because you don't wanna go? Because you're gonna miss my handsome face? How awful of you."

Steve laughs and swats at him half-heartedly. "You suck."

"Then get outta here," he says, grinning.

Shaking his head, Steve buries his face in Bucky's scarf and slips his hands inside his jacket. "Don't wanna."

"Well, tough shit," Bucky says, putting his hand on the back of Steve's head. His hair is soft and smells of Bucky's shampoo, and Bucky’s head fills up with the sensation of holding Steve in his bed, lying front to back, naked and slightly too warm. He groans and tries to stop that train of thought, because all he wants is to curl up around Steve and never let him go, and that’s not really an option. He slides his hand down to cup the back of Steve's neck. "Come on, don’t make me cry in front of all of these people, I don't want _everyone_ knowing about my Steve Rogers obsession."

Steve forces a laugh and he hugs Bucky tighter, just for a few seconds. "Okay," he says, a little croaky. "I won't make you cry.” Pulling away, he wipes the back of his sleeve over his eyes. “God, I'm being such a sap."

"Yeah well, you're a soft touch, pal."

"Takes one to know one."

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. "Okay," he says quietly. "I'm gonna kiss you, and it's gonna be the best fucking kiss of your _life_ , and then you're gonna turn around and go get straight on that bus, okay?"

"Okay."

Steve turns his face up, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. Bucky has to take a second to just appreciate how much he fucking _loves_ this little dweeb, before he leans down to meet him. Steve's mouth gives under the slightest pressure, opening up to let Bucky taste the mint on his tongue from the gum he tried to be subtle about chewing on the way here. He cups Steve's face between his palms, strokes the hair back over his ears. Steve leans into him with a quiet, urgent noise in his throat, hands clutching at his sweater inside the line of Bucky's coat.

"Okay," Bucky repeats as he pulls back, his eyes still closed. "See you soon."

Steve shuffles backwards, stoops to pick up his bag, and Bucky opens his eyes just as Steve turns away.

\--

The next few weeks pass in an agonizing blur; the time they spend actually talking to each other seems to fly by, then there are the interminable hours in between, while Bucky is at the coffee shop and Steve is working on his final project, or when they’re yawning their way through lectures, distracted by thoughts of each other. Some days they barely even talk apart from a couple of texts back and forth, and sometimes they talk on Skype for three hours and it just makes everything so much worse. 

"Fuck this," Bucky complains loudly one Friday evening, throwing his textbook on the floor.

Clint doesn't look up from his homework. "More studying, less phone sex."

"Not the essay," Bucky whines. "I miss Steve."

"You guys talk literally every day."

"I miss-"

"You also have sex _all the time_ , I hear you through the wall."

"Take your hearing aid out, stupid. Anyway it's not _every day_ , and that's not even what I was talking about."

"Right."

"Fuck you, dude. You'd be just the same if you couldn't hang out with Katie for over a month."

"False," Clint says, finally looking up from his textbook. "I'd be much, much worse. But what am I supposed to do, just let you wallow?"

"Maybe a little," Bucky says, pulling a sulky face. It stopped working on his mom a long time ago but it still sometimes works on Clint. 

"Why don't you just get in your car and drive down there?" 

Bucky shakes his head. "Work."

Clint makes a sympathetic face. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You'll shut up for an entire hour so we can finish our papers, then I'll buy you ice cream and we'll get up some crap on Netflix and you can forget about being lonely and annoying for a little while."

"Clint? I. Love you."

Three hours later finds them halfway through a tub of cookie dough ice cream and a third of the way through a bottle of vodka. Clint claimed it was practically the same thing as drinking white Russians, which Bucky did not think was remotely the case but he'd rather get drunk than start a fight. 

"We're outta coke," Bucky whines, stretching out on the couch and putting his feet in Clint’s lap. “I’m not even close to drunk enough.”

Clint sighs and slumps down even lower in his seat. “Maybe we should - put the vodka over the ice cream?”

“Gross.”

“No, really!”

Bucky shakes his head. “You’re on your own with that.”

“ _Fine_.”

He doesn’t really want to watch, but Bucky finds he can’t look away when Clint gets himself a big scoop of ice cream and clumsily spoons some vodka over the top. Bucky takes the bottle from him when he’s done and swigs from it, wincing as he swallows. “Oh man, Steve’s totally gonna make fun of me for gettin’ drunk.”

“What for?” Clint asks, spooning watery vodka/ice cream mush into his mouth with a serious expression. 

“Gettin’ drunk,” Bucky says slowly.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “No, I mean - why’s he gonna make fun?”

“Because he’s _mean_ ,” Bucky insists. “He pretends to be all sweet and innocent, but-” His face darkens, thinking of Steve’s secret mean streak. “He’s _not._ ”

“He seemed sweet to me.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “D’I tell you about last week? In the library?”

“Huh?” Clint speaks through a mouthful of runny ice cream. “Library? What he do, incite you to deface a textbook or somethin’?”

Bucky shakes his head with slow, exaggerated movements. He gets the feeling that maybe he wasn’t gonna talk about this, but _fuck it_ , if he can’t tell Clint, he can’t tell anyone, and he and Clint tell each other _everything_ , even when they probably shouldn’t. “He seduced me,” Bucky says, to Clint’s expectant face. “The little shit, I had my headphones on and he was talking to me while I typed - and he started saying all these _things_. The fucker, he made me come in my pants.”

Clint just stares at him, spoon halfway to his mouth. “In the library?”

“Uh huh.”

“You lucky son of a bitch.”

Bucky groans loudly. “In the _library_ , dude. People _heard_ me!”

“Did you get kicked out?”

“I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”

Clint just shakes his head, then shovels the last mouthful of vodka ice cream down his throat. “I gotta say, I’m liking your boyfriend more and more. He makes me feel pretty tame in comparison.” He shoots Bucky a sly look. “Is that it? You’re replacing me with someone young and daring?”

Bucky snorts. “He’s like, three years older than you, stupid.”

“No fucking way.”

“Way.”

“Crazy.”

Bucky shifts around, trying to get comfortable, and Clint curses and shoves his feet onto the floor. “Hey!”

“Quit kickin’ me, bigfoot.”

“You’ve got bigger feet than me!” Bucky whines.

“Yeah well I’m not poking you in the balls with them.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and pushes himself up from the couch. “When’s the last time we got drunk and did something stupid?”

“I dunno, New Years? Nearly banging a creepy musclehead and getting yourself beaten up was pretty stupid.”

“You guys said I should’ve gone for it!” Bucky turns to glare at him, scandalized. He had been hoping that getting the crap kicked out of him was gonna save him from judgement over that whole mess. “Was he really that bad?”

Clint just shrugs. “I dunno man, I was pretty drunk, but Katie and America said he was pretty caveman-like. All grabby hands and - well, you know. Trying to drag you back to his cave.”

“Oh, god,” Bucky moans, putting his head in his hands. “Please, please never tell Steve about that.”

“He’s persuasive,” is all Clint says, before grabbing the vodka out of Bucky’s hand. 

“Hey!”

“You’re gonna spill it, dumbass.” He takes a grim swig, then sets it carefully on the coffee table. “We could make a blanket fort.”

Bucky rolls over to grin at him. “Clint Barton-”

“Stop saying it-”

“I _love_ you.”

\--

**ohmysergeant**  
fuck my life

**pictureofhealth**  
avast there cap’n

**ohmysergeant**  
oh no

**pictureofhealth**  
is this a cry for help?

**ohmysergeant**  
please no

**pictureofhealth**  
clint is surprisingly built

**ohmysergeant**  
askdsjk  
he plays a lot of basketball  
steeb  
steebus

**pictureofhealth**  
yes, light of my life?

**ohmysergeant**  
please  
please forget you ever saw that  
any of it

**pictureofhealth**  
Bucky  
You expressly woke me up at 2am to make sure I would check my email  
and see you guys pretending to sail your bathtub like a pirate ship

**ohmysergeant**  
nooooo

**pictureofhealth**  
though idget why you were both in your underwear

**ohmysergeant**  
noooooooooooo

**pictureofhealth**  
on the plus side you’re already pretty popular on vine

**ohmysergeant**  
fml fml   
GOD  
fuck my actual life

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s pretty cute  
also just so i know  
did you guys make out or did clint get those hickeys somewhere else

**ohmysergeant**  
SOMEWHERE ELSE OMG  
I HOPE???  
BUt no seriously katie showed up   
which is how the vine happened

**pictureofhealth**  
okay cool

**ohmysergeant**  
fairly certain if I’D been giving clint hickeys id have heard about it by now  
also i have more selfcontrol than that  
and more dignity  
…  
believe it or not

**pictureofhealth**  
i mean it’s a stretch but i’ll try

**ohmysergeant**  
sweet boy <3  
i feel like i’m dying  
cookie dough ice cream and vodka does not make good white russians

**pictureofhealth**  
yeah i gathered from the barrage of texts you sent me last night

**ohmysergeant**  
I did???

**pictureofhealth**  
oh wow  
better check your phone cute stuff  
they were pretty tame, i hope someone else didn’t get the raunchy stuff

**ohmysergeant**  
OH  
GOD

**pictureofhealth**  
okay this oughta be good  
…  
buck?

**ohmysergeant**  
brb killing myself

**pictureofhealth**  
that bad?

**ohmysergeant**  
did you check tumblr yet?

**pictureofhealth**  
uhhhhh

**ohmysergeant**  
:| I am so sorry

**pictureofhealth**  
omfG ARE YOU KIDDING ME  
IS THAT  
MY ASS  
WHAT  
BUCKY  
ARE YOU *FUCKING* KIDDING ME

**ohmysergeant**  
:| I am so, so fucking sorry

**pictureofhealth**  
jfc  
i dont even  
fucking hell  
...  
my ass looks kind of amazing?

**ohmysergeant**  
DUDE YOUR ASS IS THE BEST THING

**pictureofhealth**  
thank you but oh my FUCKING GOD never do that again

**ohmysergeant**  
I will literally do anything to make it up to you holy shit steeb i am so sorry

**pictureofhealth**  
I am holding you to that like you would not believe  
pack your fucking bag, moron, you’re coming to new york next weekend

**ohmysergeant**  
I think I have to work on sunday D:::

**pictureofhealth**  
idcare, do something about it  
you  
fucking  
owe me

**ohmysergeant**  
:) okay   
I’ll be there

**pictureofhealth**  
good because four and a half weeks is too goddamn long

**ohmysergeant**  
IT REALLY IS  
okay I need to go lie down and/or throw up  
i barely survived work  
finding out i put your ass on the internet has been one shock too many

**pictureofhealth**  
take care of yourself, stupid <3

**ohmysergeant**  
you’re not mad?

**pictureofhealth**  
are you serious?   
i’m fucking furious  
but what’s done is done, and hey you can’t tell it’s me  
drunk bucky at least had enough fucking sense not to tag me

**ohmysergeant**  
i love you

**pictureofhealth**  
ahaha another thing that was mentioned about five times in the aforementioned text barrage  
go sleep it off

**ohmysergeant**  
k :/

**pictureofhealth**  
ps love you too

**ohmysergeant**  
:D

\--

"Knock knock?" Someone bangs on the bedroom door while they shout out to him. "Yo, Jimmy!"

Bucky opens his eyes reluctantly. They feel dry and gritty, and his arms and legs are so heavy he can hardly get up. 

"I'm comin'," he grumbles, kicking off the sheets. "Sup?"

"Phone for you!"

It takes him a couple of tries to stumble to the door, and he wrenches it open before he realizes he doesn't have any clothes on except his underwear. He stands for a moment, blinking dazedly in the glare of the the overhead lights, while Clint, Kate and America all cheer and wolf whistle. 

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, before slamming the door shut again. He fumbles around for some pants and a hoodie, then he crashes back through the door. 

"Nice rack, Barnes!" America shouts, cupping her hands in front of her chest and winking at him. Kate shoves her hard, knocking her off the couch, and the two of them fall about cackling. 

“Jim!” Clint yells, waving him over from the other side of the room. He’s sitting on the other couch, clutching the phone and looking smug. “Yeah, yeah he’s just coming now, Judith.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. God, his _parents_. Knowing his luck, they’ve probably seen his and Clint’s vine too. He can only pray Natasha never finds it. As he crosses the room, Kate starts humming _What shall we do with a drunken sailor_ under her breath, and Bucky picks up a pillow to throw at her. 

“Yeah, yeah, oh totally. I know, Judith, I know, I couldn’t agree more.”

Bucky folds his arms. “Clint.”

“Okay, Judith, I gotta go, James is here.” He hesitates for a moment, then laughs loudly. “Oh, I will. Don’t tell Brian you said that.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky says, covering his face with one hand. “Clint, stop it.”

“Yeah, you take care, say hi to Becca for me!” 

With a manic grin, he hands the phone over to Bucky, before divebombing the girls on the couch. Bucky turns his back on them. The phone was here when they moved in, an old brown eighties cord number, and not for the first time, he makes a mental note to buy a cordless one. 

“Hey, mom.”

“Yo ho ho,” she says, holding in laughter.

Bucky drops into a chair with a heavy groan. “Oh my _god_ , mom, no. No way.”

His mom is too busy laughing to reply, and Bucky catches his dad’s voice in the background yelling _that him? Judith, is it James?_ Bucky holds the phone away from his ear while his mom just collapses in a fit of giggles, but he brings it back when he hears an actual sane voice again. 

“Jim? You there, kiddo?”

“Dad!” Bucky glares over at the idiots on the couch, who are crowded around Clint’s laptop watching something intently. “Dad, is mom _drunk_?”

His dad chuckles. “She just a big fan of your performance”

“Yeah, more like a fan of Clint without his shirt on.”

“Hey!”

Bucky grins, although it feels like a hollow victory when the ones he really needs to take revenge against are Clint and Kate. It was definitely Kate who posted the vine; she’s the one who took it after all. “So what’s up, dad?”

“Your mother and I just want to know if you’re coming home at Easter?”

“Oh, I dunno, I might be seeing Steve?”

His dad’s voice instantly shifts into nosy neighbor mode. “This would be the same Steve you keep talking about?”

“Uh, yeah. We’re - pretty much dating now, but he’s in New York so we haven’t seen each other all that often.”

“Well, why don’t you invite him to stay?”

Bucky bites his lip. “I - I dunno if he’d want-”

“We’d really love to meet him, Bucky. You know you’re always welcome to bring a friend home with you. Or a - uh, significant other?”

It’s so awkwardly sweet that it makes him laugh. “Boyfriend is fine, dad.”

“Fine, then bring your boyfriend.”

“I’ll ask him. I can’t promise.”

“Good, now say hi to your sister-”

“Dad-”

“Jamie!” Becca yells as she comes on the line. “Shiver me timbers!”

Bucky groans and throws the phone at Clint. He watches, disappointed, as the cord snaps tight and the phone crashes onto the floor between them. Clint doesn’t even look up. Bucky goes back to bed. He’ll tackle Steve in the morning. 

\--

**ohmysergeant**  
don’t freak out

**pictureofhealth**  
are you pregnant??

**ohmysergeant**  
no no I told you I’m on the pill  
ass :p  
no shut up i have an important q for you

**pictureofhealth**  
i’m listening :>

**ohmysergeant**  
OKAY well i promised i’d go see the fam in a few weeks  
and they really wanna meet you

**pictureofhealth**  
like, go stay with them?

**ohmysergeant**  
yeah  
if you want  
you don’t have to

**pictureofhealth**  
ahhhh  
bucky idk :/

**ohmysergeant**  
k no worries

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s not that I don’t wanna meet them!  
i just have so much work right now  
and I always get run down when I’m working so much

**ohmysergeant**  
steve seriously  
forget it

**pictureofhealth**  
i just hate the idea of you picking up after me if i get sick  
i don't want them thinking you have to look after me the whole time  
it’s pathetic

**ohmysergeant**  
no, it isn’t

**pictureofhealth**  
well it feels like it to me

**ohmysergeant**  
ugh you're so stubborn  
my parents would love you  
and i wouldn’t care even if they hated your guts

**pictureofhealth**  
look just  
let me think about it

**ohmysergeant**  
yeah of course  
steeb?  
are you mad?

**pictureofhealth**  
no dude I’m just busy

**ohmysergeant**  
well then stop fucking around online and do your work!

**pictureofhealth**  
yeah buck  
thanks for the advice

**ohmysergeant**  
aw steve c’mon

_**pictureofhealth** is offline_

\--

Bucky stares at his laptop for a good five minutes after Steve signs off. He’s sure that if he waits, Steve will come back, shame-faced and apologetic, but he doesn’t. With a scowl, Bucky slams his laptop shut and stomps out into the living room. Clint is playing Halo, staring intently at the screen and swearing every few seconds, but he glances over when Bucky slumps down beside him.

“Everything okay?”

The groan Bucky gives him in response must say enough, because Clint pauses the game and turns to pull Bucky close with an arm around his shoulders. “It’s nothin’,” Bucky mumbles into Clint’s armpit, even though he thinks he might start crying.

“Steve?”

Bucky huffs and nods once. “Think we had a fight.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“He stormed off,” Bucky mutters, scowling at nothing.

Clint looks around. “Wait, he was here?”

“No, we were IMing and he went offline.”

“Go and call him,” Clint says, giving him a shove. “Apologize.”

“For what?”

“It doesn’t matter, just say it.” Bucky looks up at him and Clint just nods sagely. “Trust me, dude, learn from my mistakes. Doesn’t matter if you were in the right, just swallow your pride and start with an apology.”

Bucky nods. “Fine. Can I hang out here for a bit longer first?”

“Sure.” Clint kisses the top of his head, then ruffles his hair until Bucky yells and wriggles free of his grasp. “You wanna stay, you pay the price,” Clint says, shrugging. He reaches over to grab his Xbox controller, and at the same time, lets rip a noisy, stinky-as-fuck fart right on top of Bucky.

“What the fuck,” Bucky yelps, leaping up from the couch. “Dude!”

Clint just waves a hand dismissively. “Go call your boyfriend, dumbass.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Bucky says, pointing an accusing finger at him and scowling, before he stomps off to his room.

\--

Steve almost jumps out of his seat when his phone starts ringing, and he answers it immediately.

"Bucky?"

"Hey, listen-"

"Bucky I'm sorry-"

"I'm really sorry-"

Steve groans and Bucky starts laughing. "Fuck," Steve says, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Let's start again.”

“Okay, you go first.”

“Yeah. Look, I was being a jerk-"

"No, you weren't," Bucky says firmly. Then, "okay, maybe a little bit, but it's not for me to tell you what you're ready for."

Steve takes a deep breath. "I want to meet your family, I'm just a little - scared, I guess. I don't really have much experience with families."

"I'm sorry, dude, I really shouldn't have asked."

"No, Bucky.” Steve gets up and rolls onto his back on the bed, letting the mattress punch the air out of his chest. He takes a deep breath. “I'm - really touched that you asked. I mean - I never did the whole, meeting-the-parents thing in my last two relationships, so it’s kinda - I just need a bit more time, okay?"

"I get it. Whenever you're ready, seriously."

Steve laughs awkwardly. "Okay.” Silence fills in the gaps between them for a minute, and Steve listens to Bucky’s slow, sleepy breathing. “So, when are we having sex again?"

He hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end and it makes him smile. "How about right now?"

"Clint’s not listening is he?"

"Why?" Bucky says, laughing. "You wanna make it a party?"

"Do you?"

"Oh my god, no."

There's something in Bucky's voice that tips him off though he couldn't quite say what. "Have you guys ever-"

" _No_."

"You're kidding me, right? That was about as convincing as Jeremy Renner playing Hawkeye."

"He's not that bad!"

"Bucky, oh my god, you have totally banged Clint, haven't you?"

"Not talking about it. Ever."

"That bad?"

Bucky groans loudly. "Steve, I really mean it. This is a thing I cannot discuss. I swore an oath."

“An oath?” Steve says, taken aback. “Okay, dude. I promise, no oathbreaking. I won’t mention it.”

“Okay good. Thanks for ruining the mood though.”

Steve’s glad nobody can see his smile, or the way that his cheeks go hot as he shuffles back on the bed and slides his fingertips under the waistband of his sweatpants. “What mood’s that?” he says quietly, aiming for sultry and hoping it doesn’t sound stupid. He pushes on before Bucky can respond. “If it’s the kinda mood where I’m gonna finger myself while you jerk off and tell me exactly what you’re gonna do to me next week-”

“Ohhh jesus fucking christ-” Bucky moans, interrupting him. 

“Okay, good.” Steve shoves his pants down to his knees and rubs his palm over his dick. He’s only halfway hard, a little tired, but he’s going out of his mind with missing Bucky and it’ll be enough to hear him get off, even if he doesn’t get there himself.

“Hey, Steve?” Bucky says, his voice a little tight and shy. “You know that thing - if you met yourself in a bar, would you go home with yourself?”

“Uh huh?”

“Only I was thinkin’ earlier,” Bucky says, going on uncertainly, “what’s really hot - is if Steve got it on with like, pre-serum Steve.”

Steve laughs, taking his hand away from his groin to cover his eyes at the strange surge of embarrassment and arousal. “So, what, you’re asking if I’d do a big muscly version of myself?”

“Nah,” Bucky says, amused. Steve can just picture his smile. “I was just thinkin’, it’d be hot. And also holy shit they’re both so goddamn _stubborn_ , how they’d even get down to it in the first place-”

“I dunno,” Steve mutters, sliding his hand absently over his chest. “I mean, Steve - Cap Steve - he’s like, crazy strong, he’d be terrified of breaking himself, but then skinny Steve would just yell at him that he could take it. And Steve knows that, yeah, he probably can. Even if he _can’t_ , he ain’t gonna lose face like that.”

Bucky stifles a groan, and Steve grins. “God, I love it when you talk like fanfic.”

Steve can’t help laughing at that. “You’ve got a problem.”

“Right, because it’s not like you’ve been conditioning me to climax to the sound of your voice or anything.”

_That_ does make Steve feel slightly guilty, though he’s still secretly delighted that he got Bucky to totally lose his shit in the middle of a crowded library, pretty much untouched. Steve came so hard after that, he thought he was gonna pass out. “I thought you liked it when I read you that fic last week?”

Bucky moans softly. “Steve, you ass, I fuckin’ _loved_ it, you _know_ that. Just now I can’t hear the words _maple syrup_ without wanting to come find you and drag you off to bed.”

“Maple syrup?”

“Oh god, don’t-”

“Like, oh shit I’m so clumsy, I spilled maple syrup all over my thigh-”

“ _Fuck_ you-” Bucky spits out the curse viciously, but his voice is worn thin, wavering from holding himself in. It makes Steve heat up, and he presses his hand over his dick again, gentle pressure feeling better than it has any right to. “So you - you said you were gonna, uh, finger yourself?” Bucky asks, dropping back to sweet and tentative. “That still on the cards?”

Steve clambers up onto all fours and reaches for the lube on his nightstand. “Why? You like the thought of me fingering myself open for you?”

“Fuck-”

“Getting all wet and ready for you, Bucky-”

“Fuck, Steve, shit, can’t wait to do this again-”

Steve fumbles with the phone and the lube until he can get one arm bent back relatively comfortably. “You gonna listen?” he teases, listening to Bucky’s eager gasps. “Maybe you should tell me how to do it.”

“Holy-”

Bucky lets out a long, loud moan, and Steve almost laughs when he hears Bucky’s bed creak and knock against the wall. But he doesn’t, because Bucky is whimpering and gritting out words in between, begging Steve to fuck himself with two fingers, urging him to talk, to describe how it feels. 

“Feels so good,” Steve says, obliging, one side of his face pressed into the pillow with his phone jammed against the other ear. “Bucky, god, I can’t wait to get you inside me again - gonna feel so much better than this, and this feels so _good_.”

“Gonna have to wait, kitten,” Bucky says, laughing self-consciously. 

Steve pants. “I know, I know, next week-”

“Nah, I mean I just shot my load on my face.”

Steve’s fingers slide out of his ass while he collapses onto the bed laughing. Bucky’s laughing on the other end of the line so he doesn’t feel too guilty. He rolls over, wiping his hand on his tshirt to get the slick off his fingers. “On your _face_ , Barnes? _Really_?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, believe me,” Bucky says, sounding hazy and relaxed now. “Did you, uh-”

“Nah,” Steve says. “I’m good. Tired. Just wanted to listen to you really.”

“That’s - kinda sweet, Rogers.”

“Shh, don’t spoil my reputation.” Bucky laughs, and Steve sighs as he relaxes back into his pillows. “That gonna keep you going til Friday?” 

“I guess it’ll do,” Bucky says with a sigh. “You’re kinda great, Steeb.”

Steve grins. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yup.”

“See you Friday.”

“Yeah, see you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All passengers, please be aware that our next scheduled stop is dramatown. Repeat, next mandatory stop is dramatown. Please keep your seatbelts fastened.


	13. Mostly harmless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTN all passengers, we are now making our mandatory brief stop in Dramatown. We recommend that you board the fuckbus again at the end, as our next stop is Fluffberg.

By the time Friday crawls into view, Steve is practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of seeing Bucky again. His phone rings at two, and Steve rolls across the bed to pick it up.

“Hey!”

“T-minus four hours.”

Steve grins. “You’re leaving now?”

“Just filled up my tank.”

“Drive safe.”

Bucky laughs. “I always do. See you in a few hours.”

Steve works on his backlog of commissions while he waits for Bucky to arrive. He remembers to eat something at about five, and checks his phone. There’s no word from Bucky, which isn’t that weird, but it worries him for some reason. 

Bucky is over an hour late when Steve starts to panic. He'd promised to text if he got held up or stuck in traffic, but there’s been no word from him since he left. Steve holds on another thirty minutes in the hopes that Bucky just can't get at his phone, and then he starts freaking out. He’s already called Bucky twice, getting voicemail each time, so instead he calls Clint several times. When he can't get through, he realizes Clint must already be at work, and Steve feels dizzy at the thought that he has no idea where that is. He doesn’t have Kate’s number, or anyone else who knows Bucky for that matter. And, because Steve doesn’t use facebook, he’s got no clue how to find any of them.  
Sam is out at the movies, on a date for the first time in months, and Steve almost feels too guilty to text him, but Sam’s bawled him out before for not calling when he needed help.

When Bucky is almost three hours late, Sam finally calls back and says he’ll be over in fifteen minutes. “And don’t panic, dude,” he says, in his _I’m-the-dad-so-pay-attention_ voice. “Take a deep breath, everything will be okay.”

Steve doesn’t point out that there’s no way for Sam to know that, or that the last time someone told him everything would be okay, it turned out his mom was on life support. He just hangs up, and clutches his phone tight enough that his hand starts to hurt. 

Sam lets himself in a little while later, and finds Steve crouched on the floor at the end of his bed, still clutching his phone. 

“Steve? Hey, it’s me, it’s Sam.”

“Thought you were gonna be fifteen minutes,” Steve says, looking up at him, dazed.

Sam pulls a face. “I’m really sorry, dude, I came as fast as I could, but I got stuck in traffic.”

“What?” Steve says, shaking his head. “No, no, I just sat down, it can’t-” He glances at the time on his phone and realizes he's been sitting there for almost half an hour.

“Can you get up, buddy?” Steve nods, and Sam hooks his hands under Steve’s armpits and helps him up to sit on the bed. “Still no word from Bucky?”

Steve shakes his head again, and feels his throat tighten. “He - he-”

“Hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath.” Sam sits beside him and wraps one arm around his shoulder. Steve sits stiffly, every part of him seized up with panic, but Sam just holds on until Steve relaxes into him. 

“What do I do?” Steve mutters. “I called his roommate but I can’t get hold of him, and I - I don’t _know_ anyone else. Sam, he could be anywhere! He could be _dead_ -”

“Quit that,” Sam says sharply, giving his shoulders a shake. “Talking like that won’t help anyone.”

“But I-”

They both jump as Steve’s phone starts ringing loudly. He put it as loud as it would go to make sure he didn’t miss a message from Bucky. Steve stares at it for three rings, then Sam reaches over to grab it, and pushes it into his hand. “Answer it, now.”

Steve does. “H - hello?”

“Steve?”

“Clint, fuck, I’ve been trying-”

“I know, I know,” Clint says quickly. He takes a deep breath. “Listen-”

Somehow, even though Steve _knows_ that something terrible has happened, hearing the confirmation of it in Clint’s tone of voice, in the way he hesitates, trying to find the right words, makes it suddenly real. And so, so much worse.

“No.” There's more he wants to say but it feels like all the air goes out of the room. Steve isn’t even aware he’s dropped to the floor again until he finds Sam crouching over him, rubbing his left arm comfortingly.

"Put it on speaker," Sam says gently. Steve nods.

"Are you listening?" Clint asks desperately, his voice coming tinny from Steve’s palm as he holds the phone out between them. "He's alive, Steve, he’s alive, listen-"

Sam squeezes his shoulder, and Steve gulps down his terror. "I'm listening."

“There was an accident,” Clint says, sounding like the words have ripped their way out of him. “He’s - his parents called me from the hospital. They didn't know how to get in touch with you.”

"Are you going?"

"Yeah, Katie's on her way over. You got a way to get to Middletown, near Hartford?"

"I'll drive you," Sam says without hesitation. Steve nods at him gratefully.

"I'm gonna text you the address," Clint says, his voice much steadier now than when Steve picked up. "Take care of yourself, okay? He'll be okay."

Steve nods, trying to reassure himself. "Okay."

They hang up, and Steve clambers awkwardly to his feet. He has no idea what to do first, but luckily Sam is already moving. He shoves a sweater at Steve, and his boots, and goes to his closet to pull out a change of clothes. Steve just stares at him for a moment, then he obediently puts his shoes and sweater on while Sam shoves his things in a backpack.

"Need anything else?" Sam asks him calmly.

Steve bites his lip. "I - I don't know." He spots Bucky's hoodie lying over the back of his computer chair and he quickly rips off sweater Sam gave him and pulls that on instead. It still smells of Bucky, and it makes Steve feel like crying, but he swallows it down. "Let's just go."

\--

Sam holds his hand while they walk in and find their way to the reception desk. They've heard from Clint twice since they left, letting them know when he got the hospital, and that Bucky was still in surgery.

Sam takes the lead when they get inside. "Hey, we're looking for a friend who was brought in, he's uh-" He turns and looks expectantly at Steve, who stares back for a few seconds. "Name, Steve?"

"Oh, Bucky. I mean - James. Barnes. He was-" Steve suddenly forgets how to make words, but Sam smoothly takes over.

"He was in a car accident. This is his boyfriend."

"Name?" the receptionist asks, before catching a glimpse of their clasped hands and raising his eyebrows. “Uh, you said boyfriend?”

Sam scowls. "Steve Rogers. I'm Steve's _carer_."

"Last report says he's in surgery," the receptionist says sheepishly. "I think he's got some family in the waiting room upstairs."

Sam must get directions, because Steve finds himself being led into an elevator and then along several corridors. Eventually they reach a small waiting room, and Sam pauses outside the door and turns to Steve, letting go of his hand. Steve pulls out his phone, but of course, there aren’t any messages. 

"You wanna go in?'

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, because Bucky's parents are in there for one thing, and you've never met them."

Steve groans. "Oh, god." He takes a deep breath. "I wish my mom was here."

Sam reaches out and pulls him into a hug. "I know, dude." His hand rubs a gentle circle on Steve's back, and Steve can feel how tense he is. Sam's always so together; Steve hadn't even realized that he might be upset too.

They pull apart, and Steve is just about to suggest they go inside when the door opens, deciding the matter for them, and Clint tumbles out in front of them.

"Fuck," he says loudly when he spots them. He grabs Steve in a hug, squeezing him hard enough to push all the air out of him.

“Clint-” Steve gasps, hugging him back briefly. “Can’t breathe, dude.”

He lets go and glances back at the door. "Jimmy's parents really wanna meet you." He turns back to Steve with a crooked smile. "But if you don't want to right now we can go hide in the cafeteria."

Steve takes a deep breath. "No, I want to meet them." Sam puts his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Oh shit, uh, Clint, this is Sam. Sam, this is Bucky's roommate."

They shake hands, then Sam pulls Clint into a hug. “Sorry about this, dude. I’m here if you guys need me.”

Clint smiles at him warmly, before he looks over at the door again. "You sure you wanna go in?" he asks, putting his hand on Steve's arm. "Katie's in there so they'll be fine without us."

Steve cracks a weak smile. "I'm tougher than I look."

Clint grins. "Point taken. Come on then."

The room isn’t big, but it still looks huge around the four people inside. There’s a woman standing at the window with her back to the door, and a man and a teenage girl sitting next to each other, faces pale. Kate is sitting near the window, her head in her hands. Everyone looks up sharply when Clint opens the door, and Steve feels sick when their faces fall and he realizes they were hoping for news about Bucky.

Clint steps in first, his hand on Steve’s shoulder. "Uh, Brian, Judith, this is Steve. James's boyfriend."

"Hey," Steve says with a watery smile. "Nice to meet you?" He's a little unsure about the social niceties in this kind of situation.

“And this is Becca,” Clint says, gesturing to the girl. Bucky’s sister. She's a little taller than Steve, and she has the same eyes and mouth as Bucky. She hasn't quite grown into her features yet the way Bucky has, and he can see the awkward teenager Bucky would've been in her face. Steve feels like throwing up.

Bucky’s dad gets up and comes over to Steve, hand outstretched. “Steve,” he says, shaking his hand firmly. “I’m sorry we’re only meeting in these circumstances. I understand James was hoping to introduce us soon.”

"Oh, uh, yeah. I think so."

“You’re freaking him out, Dad,” Bucky’s sister says, scowling at them both. “Leave him alone, he just wants to know about Jamie.”

Brian exchanges a stunned look with his wife, who just shrugs, then steps away from the window. He’s obviously been crying, and Becca is still sniffling and wet-eyed, but Judith’s face is pale and dry. "It's nice to meet you," she says, although Steve's pretty sure the words are coming out on automatic. Both she and Brian are taller than him too, about the same height as Bucky.

"Bucky is - uh, I mean James, he talks about your cooking a lot." That gets him a tired smile, but Becca also starts crying audibly and her dad goes over to her. "Please," Steve says a little urgently. "Have they told you anything? All I know is he's in surgery."

"He came out a little while ago, but we're still waiting to see him. He's got a broken leg and some broken ribs where he hit the steering wheel. They were worried about internal bleeding, but they said he hasn't damaged anything really important." Her voice is calm and measured, and she looks at a point just above Steve's right eyebrow as she talks. Steve can't help looking for Bucky in her face, noting the similarity in the shape of her nose and her dark lashes and eyebrows, although her eyes are a rich, dark brown. "Sorry," she says, looking him in the eye suddenly. "We should have called you earlier, I didn't think-"

"It's fine," he says quickly. "Do you know what happened?"

"It wasn't his fault," she says quickly. "Another driver-" She turns away from him, putting her hand to her mouth to hide a gasp. 

"He was coming to see me," Steve says in a tiny voice. 

"It's not your fault either, Steve," Brian says, walking over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "It's _definitely_ not your fault."

"Is his-" Steve cuts himself off, feeling foolish, but they're looking at him expectantly, and he has to know. "Is his arm okay? His left arm?" When they look at him blankly, he reaches for an explanation that doesn't sound too crazy. "I - I just had this, uh, feeling. About him hurting his arm."

Brian shakes his head. "They didn't say anything about his arm. Let's hope you're a terrible fortune teller, hm?"

\--

Clint takes Sam and Steve down to the cafeteria by force, on the promise that Kate will call them the second there’s any news about Bucky. They make idle conversation over his head, and Steve is happy to be ignored for the moment and tune out their rambling. They might be trying to include him, for all he knows; everything around him is a blur. 

They’re sitting around a table, clutching cups of fairly awful coffee, when Clint’s phone buzzes, and they all jump. 

“He’s out,” Clint says, reading his phone. “We can’t really see him yet, but Brian and Judith are gonna go in soon for a quick visit.” He looks up and catches Steve’s face, which must look utterly wretched judging by the way Clint winces and reaches out to touch his arm. “It’s okay, I’m sure you can see him real soon. And maybe by then he’ll be awake too, at the moment he’s probably still out from the anaesthetic.” 

Steve nods dumbly, and Sam reaches over to rub his back, between his shoulderblades. They hang around in the cafeteria a little longer, Steve drifting off completely while Sam and Clint chat amongst themselves. Katie comes and joins them after a little while, and curls into Clint’s left side. They get more coffee and take it up to the waiting room, which is empty now. Steve yawns a couple of times, so Sam folds his jacket on the seat between them and gets Steve to put his head down for a bit. Steve tried to argue, but Sam just points out that Bucky’s out of surgery, he’s fine, and they’ll wake him up the second they hear anything. 

He falls in and out of consciousness for an hour or so, and at one point he opens his eyes halfway when he hears Sam’s voice out in the corridor, having a conversation in his stern dad voice. A little while later, Sam shakes him awake with a hand on his shoulder, and helps him to sit up when he struggles with the stiffness in his neck and back. 

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” he says, crouching by Steve’s chair. “You ready to go see your prince?”

\--

Clint and Katie are already there when Sam leads him to Bucky’s room. He squeezes Steve’s shoulders, then gives him a gentle push through the door. Clint pats Bucky’s arm, and Kate leans in to kiss his cheek, and he blinks at them muzzily, before he rolls his head on the pillow and spots Steve in the doorway.

“Steve,” he says, his voice a whisper of breath squeezed out of his battered chest. He looks like hell, and Steve has to put all his focus into putting one foot in front of the other, in not throwing up at the sight of another person he loves lying in a hospital bed, twisted up and broken. 

“He just woke up,” Clint says, as he and Katie walk over to the door. He claps his hand on Steve’s shoulder gently and smiles. “He’s not really with it yet, but you’re the first thing he asked for.” They go out, closing the door behind them, and Steve stands there frozen, halfway between the door and the bed. 

“Stevie?” Bucky says eventually, his voice croaky and small. “You mad at me?”

Steve’s breath all comes out in a rush as he staggers forward to the bed, catching himself on the rail at the side. “God, Bucky, why would you say that?” he gasps, his face twisting miserably when he feels the tears burn at the back of his eyes. “Of course I’m not mad.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth tilts just so, giving him the hint of a smile. “You’re quiet. You okay?”

“Am I - god, Bucky, are _you_ okay?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I’m doped to the balls, stupid. I’m askin’ about you.” His tone has the weary fondness he uses when he teases, but his face is sad and severe. “You must’ve been so worried, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop it,” Steve mumbles. He reaches up to swipe at his cheek with the sleeve of his - Bucky’s - hoodie. 

“Steve-” Bucky reaches out a shaky hand, and Steve grabs for it and locks their fingers together. “Sorry I fucked up our weekend together.”

Steve half-laughs, half-sobs, shaking his head as he leans forward to brush the hair back from Bucky’s temple. Bucky gives him a sad smile and tilts his head a little on the pillow. Taking the invitation, Steve leans down and kisses him very softly. Bucky’s lips are dry and chapped, and Steve’s face is wet, but it calms the raging storm inside his chest somewhat. Things could have been worse. So much worse. The dread that he’s been shivering through for the past four or five hours finally loosens its grip on him, enough that he can take a steadying breath, 

“I guess you get your wish in the end,” Steve says, rubbing his thumb over Bucky’s wrist and examining the veins beneath his skin. 

“What’s that? An excuse to skip work?”

Steve looks up at him with a grin. “Well, your parents are taking you to stay with them for a while. I guess I don’t have a choice except to visit them after all.”

Bucky squints at him. “They didn’t say that. Oh god, did they say that? Shit, they’re so fucking overprotective.”

“Oh no,” Steve says, totally deadpan, “how awful.”

With a short, awkward laugh, Bucky reaches up to touch his cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I mean, they _are_ but - well, yeah, I’m an asshole for not appreciating it.”

Steve shrugs, but he reaches up to cover Bucky’s fingers with his hand. “I like your sister.”

“Oh yeah, Becca’s a pistol. I’d better watch out, she’s gonna _love_ you.”

“Me?” Steve says, pulling back a little in surprise. “Dude, I’m like, ten years older than her.”

Bucky grins. “Try seven, but yeah, I can already tell you guys are gonna be the death of me. She absolutely hates Clint, you know, I think mostly because my mom loves him so much. I think her ultimate dream would be for one of us to marry him, preferably Becca but I don’t think she’d mind that much if it was me.” Bucky looks thoughtful for a moment, as if he’s considering it, then he shudders. “God, that took a dark turn.”

“You oughta rest,” Steve says, reaching out to stroke his palm over Bucky’s forehead, brushing back over his hair, feeling the familiar texture of it. “I’ll let you sleep.”

“Wait,” Bucky says, grabbing at his wrist. “Just stay, just for a bit?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You think I’d go anywhere?” He lifts Bucky’s hand to his mouth and kisses his bruised knuckles. “I’m staying right here until they drag me out.”

Bucky laughs, but cuts off quickly with a grimace. “Fuck,” he murmurs, moving his hand to his chest. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Go to sleep,” Steve commands him, sitting back in his chair. 

“Stubborn jerk,” Bucky says, smiling at him.

“Idiot.”

“Loser.”

“Who’s the bigger loser, me or the guy dating a loser?”

Bucky groans and shuts his eyes. “Shut up, I was in a car crash.” He sighs and rolls his head around to face Steve. “Are you really okay?”

His first instinct is to brush it off again, but Bucky is looking at him intently, concern filling his clear blue haze, and Steve takes a deep breath and looks down at their clasped hands. “I think so? I dunno, I really freaked out earlier, but Sam came by. He’s the one that drove me here.” He takes another deep, shuddering breath, and feels Bucky’s fingers tighten on his own. “I just haven’t been in a hospital since my mom died, and I - I’m terrified of losing you.” The last bit comes out in a whisper, and he’s disgusted with himself when he feels tears pushing past his squeezed-shut eyelids again. 

“When I woke up,” Bucky says quietly, “I thought they were gonna tell me I’d had my arm amputated.”

Steve doesn’t mean to laugh, but he can’t help himself. “Shit,” he says, crying and giggling at the same time. He reaches up to swipe at his face with his sleeve again. “All I could think about all the way here was, what if you’d lost your arm?”

Bucky shakes his head slowly. “We’re actual idiots, both of us.” 

“Yeah,” Steve says, wiping his eyes again. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“C’mere-” Bucky tugs on his hand gently, and gestures him closer with the other. “I still can’t eat for a while, so you better give me some sugar to keep me going.”

Steve snorts. “Sometimes I think you’re even cheesier than your namesake.” He leans over anyway, careful not to put any weight on Bucky, and kisses him softly on the mouth. Bucky reaches up and wipes a tear off his cheek, before he kisses Steve back, sliding his hand around to cup the back of Steve’s head and stop him from pulling away. 

“Thanks for comin’,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips, kissing him again. When Steve pulls back, he traces his fingertips very gently over the side of Bucky’s face, tracing the bruise that’s coming up over his left eye, down his cheekbone. The doctor said he was lucky not to crack his eye socket. “How bad’s it look?”

“Totally badass,” Steve whispers, making him grin. Bucky’s eyelids are looking heavy, and his grip on Steve’s hand is starting to slacken. “Get some sleep, Buck. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mkay,” Bucky mutters, closing his eyes. “Colorful, Stevie.”

Steve’s insides feel like they wanna burst out of him, he’s so overwhelmed with joy and relief. “Yeah, Bucky. Me too.”

\--

 **ohmysergeant**  
:(((( I MISS YOU ALREADY I AM SO BORED  
(on the plus side Clint  & Kate fetched a bunch of my stuff including my laptop so hey >:3)

 **pictureofhealth**  
omg i literally just walked in the door  
why don’t you sleep or sth?

 **ohmysergeant**  
can’t sleep, so much pain  
can’t have more drugs for another hour  
pls pls entertain me? D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
god you’re almost worse than me when you’re sick

 **ohmysergeant**  
HA

 **pictureofhealth**  
i said almost :p  
okay let me just grab a shower okay?  
entertain yourself with thoughts of that if you need to

 **ohmysergeant**  
aw man how am I supposed to jerk off in hospital  
you are the worst

 **pictureofhealth**  
haha trust me people do it all the time  
at least you’re cute  
my mom used to work on an elderly ward and all these creepy old guys would try and jerk off in front of her

 **ohmysergeant**  
… well you solved that problem for me  
def don’t feel like jerking off anymore

 **pictureofhealth**  
<3 yw  
brb

 **ohmysergeant**  
k  
btw becca has NOT stopped talking about you  
I told you she’d love you  
she has good taste  
but you are not allowed to run off with my sister jfyi

 **pictureofhealth**  
back  
wtf why would i run off with your sister  
who, aside from not being you, is also a teenager

 **ohmysergeant**  
just sayin :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
I think the medication’s going to your head

 **ohmysergeant**  
isn’t that the point?  
are you okay? i should probs let you nap

 **pictureofhealth**  
I’m okay for a little longer

 **ohmysergeant**  
hmmm okay but TELL ME as soon as you need to rest

 **pictureofhealth**  
wilko : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
y’no i was thinking

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh?

 **ohmysergeant**  
well i have all this time on my hands, and it’ll be summer before we know it  
we should do another fic/art collab :D

 **pictureofhealth**  
omg :D I would love to!

 **ohmysergeant**  
you have time?

 **pictureofhealth**  
wellllll I need to sort out my portfolio and start looking for an industry job I think  
but that gives you plenty of time to start writing something :p  
what’s it gonna be, another au?

 **ohmysergeant**  
maybe  
pirates or  
pirates in space

 **pictureofhealth**  
y’no you should totally think about writing something original  
don’t get me wrong I really love your fic  
but you’re such a good writer, you could really get somewhere with it : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
yeah, maybe  
hey how was brunch with my parents??  
i’m so sorry i had no idea they would drag you out for family time like that D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
you know it wasn’t so bad  
they’re really nice : >  
and also they paid for my train ticket omg i feel so bad D:

 **ohmysergeant**  
oh come on steeb  
will you just let someone do something nice for you every once in a while without getting on the guilt train?  
anyway we can’t both be feeling guilty  
i still feel so fuckin shitty about ruining our weekend  
i’m sorry D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
aw buck nooooo  
shit happens, it wasn’t your fault  
and we’ll hang out real soon I promise :3

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay good because i’m gonna have double the amount of missing you to make up for

 **pictureofhealth**  
that sounds promising : >  
oh wow shit  
okay  
way more tired than i thought  
gonna have to bail

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay I GUESS  
feel better cutie  <3

 **pictureofhealth**  
you too :p


	14. Fun for all the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *THE MOST EPIC DRUMROLL EVER TO DRUMROLL*

Chapter 14

**ohmysergeant**  
STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEB

**pictureofhealth**  
holy shit  
hey beautiful :>

**ohmysergeant**  
i AM beautiful  
i am SO beautiful  
wanna know why?

**pictureofhealth**  
absolutely i do

**ohmysergeant**  
good. nice reference.  
so. i just had a sponge bath  
although i have to say it was not as sexy as i have been led to believe by pop culture

**pictureofhealth**  
not hot?

**ohmysergeant**  
D:   
definitely not hot

**pictureofhealth**  
aw bb  
you need warming up? :3

**ohmysergeant**  
>:3 now you’re speaking my language

**pictureofhealth**  
haha okay let’s pencil it in for later  
got a stack of work to get through  
how’re you feeling?

**ohmysergeant**  
ehhhh  
kinda like i broke my leg

**pictureofhealth**  
weird

**ohmysergeant**  
ikr  
how’re YOU feeling <3

**pictureofhealth**  
fine i guess  
sam’s coming over soon with my homework

**ohmysergeant**  
is that like, FINE fine  
or ‘no i’m totally fucked but i’m not gonna tell you because you’ve got a broken leg and I don’t like to complain’ fine?  
because my money’s on the second one

**pictureofhealth**  
>:

**ohmysergeant**  
or is it fiiiiiiiine  
‘cause hell YEAH

**pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
i look like death warmed up rn

**ohmysergeant**  
i’d still hit it

**pictureofhealth**  
…*considers making a joke about hitting you with a car*

**ohmysergeant**  
OH  
TOO SOON

**pictureofhealth**  
:>

**ohmysergeant**  
u got a warped sense of humor, boyo

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s my defense mechanism  
seriously though buck i’m glad you’re okay   
i was losing my fucking mind

**ohmysergeant**  
i know, i’m really sorry D:

**pictureofhealth**  
don’t be sorry :3 just get better soon so we can snuggle  
looking forward to staying with your parents?

**ohmysergeant**  
oh GOD  
i mean yeah but  
they’re gonna drive me crazy  
you’re gonna come and stay though right? RIGHT??

**pictureofhealth**  
yeah, of course I’ll come  
although i can’t for a couple of weeks, gotta get my schoolwork out of the way ;___;

**ohmysergeant**  
D:   
no it's cool :3  
no worries buddy

**pictureofhealth**  
so when do you get to go home? 

**ohmysergeant**  
today or tomorrow 8D   
CAN’T WAIT  
Clint's coming down for a couple of days, to help out and bring my homework   
i think he just wants first dibs on my cast now I've got it plastered up properly 

**pictureofhealth**  
you better save some space for me!

**ohmysergeant**  
OBVIOUSLY  
oh ps i might have to share a bed with clint   
pretty sure he doesn't fit on the couch

**pictureofhealth**  
are you warning me so I don't get jealous? :D

**ohmysergeant**  
I'm just mentioning it!

**pictureofhealth**  
dude I already know all about your torrid affair

**ohmysergeant**  
EVERYONE knows about that

**pictureofhealth**  
good point :p  
oh brb Sam just got here

**ohmysergeant**  
Woo! say hi for me :D

**pictureofhealth**  
Sam says hi and how's the leg?

**ohmysergeant**  
still broken  
how's the new girlfriend? 

**pictureofhealth**  
shit how did you remember that and i forgot? 

**ohmysergeant**  
I mean I'm not saying I'm better than you, but...

**pictureofhealth**  
ha ha  
well conveniently I now have to leave

**ohmysergeant**  
probably for the best

**pictureofhealth**  
text me later :3

**ohmysergeant**  
of course <3

**pictureofhealth**  
ilubyeeeee

—

“So,” Sam says, “how’s loverboy?”

Steve reaches over to put his phone on charge and slumps back into the pillows. “He’s okay. Getting out of hospital today apparently.”

"That's good." Sam pulls some papers out of his backpack and sets them down on the desk. "How're you doing? You been outta that bed today?"

Steve shrugs. "I went all the way to the bathroom."

"Uh huh. You need me to fetch you anything?"

"Nah-"

"Did you eat yet today?"

Steve looks away sheepishly. "Noooo."

"Food first then," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, Rogers, I taught you better than that."

Sam props him up in bed and encourages him to strip out of his sweaty pyjama top and pull on a clean t-shirt, then goes to fetch him some cereal and fruit. He warms up a heat pack in the microwave while Steve eats slowly. "Wanna take a look at your homework now?"

Steve shakes his head. "Later." He reaches to put his bowl on the nightstand and Sam pulls it away from him. 

"Nuh uh, bowls go in the sink."

"Fascist," Steve mumbles. Sam spends a few minutes tidying up while Steve checks his emails on his laptop, the heat pack slowly warming out the tension in his neck. He’s managed to wrangle himself some freelance work, but it’ll be a struggle to fit it in on top of his homework. Making a thoughtful sound in his throat, he scans through the email, working out what he needs to do and how he’s going to fit it in. He’d pitched for the work late one night on a whim, not expecting to get the commission, but he’ll make space for it somehow. 

“What’re you sighing about?” Sam asks, coming over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. “You miss Bucky?”

Steve shakes his head, then laughs at himself. “I mean, yeah, obviously, but that’s not it. I’m just tired.”

“Take a nap,” Sam says, patting his leg through the blankets. “I’ll wake you in an hour or so for lunch, then we can take a look at your schoolwork.”

“I dunno if I can sleep,” Steve says, pulling a face.

Sam shakes his head. “Lie down anyway, you look like hell. Either way some rest will do you good.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, reluctance giving way in the face of how tired and wrung out he feels. He snuggles down under his blankets, pulling one of his pillows into his arms and trying to pretend it’s Bucky. He’s never really liked sharing a bed, but a few nights of sharing with Bucky and he misses it like crazy. Maybe later he can call Bucky before bed. It helps, sometimes, when Bucky reads him to sleep, and he’s enjoying Lolita - what he’s heard of it, at least. Bucky never gets angry when he falls asleep and misses stuff. “Sam,” he mumbles, lifting his head up slightly.

“Uh huh?” Sam says, from over at the couch where he’s reading through some notes. 

“Could you - uh. Would you read to me?”

Sam hesitates, but when he replies, he doesn’t sound annoyed or even confused by the suggestion. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

Steve covers a yawn. “Anything. Read your notes if you want. ‘s just nice.”

“Bucky read to you?”

“Mm, sometimes.”

“Alright. Shut your eyes.”

—

Bucky wouldn’t have thought that four days alone with his family would make him so deliriously overjoyed to see Clint again, but maybe it’s just that in Middletown he’s so cut off from _everyone_ he knows, his family make him extra crazy. His remaining school friends are still away at college, and it’s not like he can really _go_ anywhere. He’s barely even gotten used to his crutches yet, and he’s got orders not to use them too much until the end of the week anyway. 

Needless to say, by the time Clint shows up, Bucky’s so relieved he could kiss the guy. He would, even, except that Steve would make fun of him from here to eternity.

Of course, he'd have to fight his mom for the opportunity. 

"Clint, sweetheart!" she yells as soon as he walks in the door. 

"Hey, Mrs B," he says, dropping his bag and going in for a hug. "You look beautiful as ever."

She huffs and goes a bit pink, while Bucky stands in the doorway to the living room and rolls his eyes at them. His mom pats awkwardly at her hair when Clint releases her.

"Well, let me fix you something to eat."

"Aw, you really don't need to do that."

"Nonsense, I'll be right back. Why don't you go and put your things in Jimmy's room?"

She bustles off to the kitchen, and Clint meets Bucky's eyes. He smiles sheepishly. "Hey."

"Dude, do you _have_ to flirt with my mom?"

Clint's tentative smile widens, the grin spreading over his face. "If I had to do it, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

Bucky rolls his eyes again, heaving a false sigh, and pulls Clint into a hug. 

"That's more like it, future husband," Clint croons in his ear. He squeezes Bucky tight, but then one of his hands slips down to hold Bucky's ass, and he gives it a gentle grope.

"I'm gonna tell Steve about that," Bucky says, trying to sound vaguely menacing. 

"Good," Clint says, starting to laugh. He pulls away. "How else am I gonna get the two of you into bed with me?"

Bucky pats him on the shoulder. "I can promise you, absolutely, that will never happen."

Bucky’s mom makes them sandwiches and also heats up some lasagne, because she insists that Clint is a growing boy and that she likes to feed him up. Even though he’s only here for a couple of days, he’ll probably leave ten pounds heavier. That’s the sort of thing Bucky’s mom prides herself on. He’s a little frightened of ever letting her near Steve. If she thinks _Clint_ needs feeding up, there’s no telling what she’ll do with Steve. 

“Whadda you wanna do first?” Clint asks with a mouthful of lasagne, as if they’re about to start roaming around having adventures, even though Bucky’s on crutches and Clint still hasn’t got his driver’s licence unrevoked. 

“We should start with some amateur surgery,” Bucky says, picking up a piece of garlic bread and tearing it in half. “Then maybe some heavy drinking.”

Clint grins. “Steve’s gonna kill me.”

—

**pictureofhealth**  
hey dude  
buck?  
if you don’t reply i’m gonna assume you’re balls deep in clint

**ohmysergeant**  
STEV HOW DIDU NO

**pictureofhealth**  
it’s a gift  
score out of ten?

**ohmysergeant**  
12 NO QUESTIN CLINT IS A GOD

**pictureofhealth**  
ohhhhh hi clint

**ohmysergeant**  
hi bro   
(づ￣ ³￣)づ

**pictureofhealth**  
(｡◕‿‿◕｡)

**ohmysergeant**  
ლ(´ڡ`ლ)  
hey i’m back  
CLINT OMG NO  
bb i am so sorry   
what has he been saying to u

**pictureofhealth**  
bucky get out of the way clint and i are trying to make out

**ohmysergeant**  
nooOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
ooooooooooo

**pictureofhealth**  
you are so overdramatic :3

**ohmysergeant**  
no u

**pictureofhealth**  
OH   
CLINT  
IF YOU CAN READ THIS  
SEND ME MORE BABY PICTURES OF BUCKY

**ohmysergeant**  
STEVE NO

**pictureofhealth**  
AWKWARD HIGH SCHOOL PICTURES

**ohmysergeant**  
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
D: D: D: D:D :D: D::DD:D:D:

**pictureofhealth**  
there there <3  
just teasing you  
but you were an unbearably cute teenager

**ohmysergeant**  
can’t decide if your creep factor outweighs your romance factor <3

**pictureofhealth**  
oh totally  
that a problem?

**ohmysergeant**  
nah

**pictureofhealth**  
k well i just wanted to say hi, you should get back to clint :>

**ohmysergeant**  
it’s okay we’re just watchin robocop  
somethin up?

**pictureofhealth**  
no no  
i got some marks back from my last project

**ohmysergeant**  
!!!  
AND????

**pictureofhealth**  
98  
:x

**ohmysergeant**  
STEEB  
DUDE  
THAT’S INCREDIBLE OMG SO PROUD OF U

**pictureofhealth**  
:D

**ohmysergeant**  
argh wish i could hug you rn  
well done gorgeous

**pictureofhealth**  
thanks buck :>  
i gotta go work but you guys have fun

**ohmysergeant**  
clint’s heading back tomorrow  
i’ll call you then?

**pictureofhealth**  
okay! 

**ohmysergeant**  
i miss your voice

**pictureofhealth**  
yeah me too

**ohmysergeant**  
night pussycat

**pictureofhealth**  
omg  
night monkeybutt

**ohmysergeant**  
cupcake

**pictureofhealth**  
sweetcheeks

**ohmysergeant**  
(づ￣ ³￣)づ

**pictureofhealth**  
k you win   
night guys xoxo

—

Steve’s still in college the following evening, working in the almost deserted studio, when Bucky finally calls. 

"Hey, Buck. How's home?"

"I dunno," Bucky says, sounding sleepy and vague like he just woke up from a nap. "S'okay. Miss you though. My bed's cold."

Steve laughs under his breath. "Well, you usually do fine without me."

"Nuh uh." Bucky sounds tired and petulant, and Steve smiles fondly. "Not now I know how you taste, need you here with me."

"What a romantic," Steve teases, though inside he has a little twinge of anxiety. They've still only slept together a few times - not counting a couple of times over Skype since Steve came back from Boston - and he can't help worrying that Bucky is gonna end up disappointed with him before long.

"Am too," Bucky whines. "Gonna romance every last inch of you. Start with your cute little toes-"

Steve groans, looking around him. It’s _almost_ deserted, but there’s a janitor, one of his professors is hanging around, and a couple of students still working. "Bucky, I'm in college-"

"-work my way up your legs, say hi to that beautiful ass."

Steve leans forward over his desk and lowers his voice. "I really can't do this right now."

"Steeeeb," Bucky whines. 

With a sigh, Steve shuffles his chair back and gets to his feet. “Okay, okay,” he says smartly. “At least let me get to the bathroom.”

Bucky laughs, still sounding sleepy, but pleased to be getting his own way. "You're the best boyfriend, you know?" he coos. "Letting me dirty talk you in public."

Steve grins. "Dirty talk isn’t a verb."

"If you don't stop interrupting me then I’m not gonna wait for you to get to the bathroom."

"Asshole."

"Good point," Bucky murmurs. "Let's think about your gorgeous little asshole, and how I'm gonna bend you over and—"

" _Bucky,_ , Jesus," Steve hisses. 

"—over and over until you're just panting and begging—"

"Oh my god," Steve groans. He shoulders open the bathroom door, curled into himself slightly just in case anyone is inside. The last thing he wants is to barge in there with his dick practically popping out of his jeans. Luckily, the bathroom is deserted, but Steve still ducks into a stall just in case. He gets his jeans unzipped and his hand in his underwear in about two seconds. “ _Fuck_.”

“You touchin’ yourself, honeypie?” Bucky croons. Steve mumbles an affirmative and Bucky makes an approving noise at him. “Attaboy, that’s good, fuck I miss you so much—”

Steve doesn’t really start jerking off, but he squeezes his dick hard and moves his hand up and down just a little. “Mm—miss—miss you too.” With his eyes shut and Bucky’s voice in his ear, sometimes Steve can pretend that he isn’t so far away. “Are you?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky’s voice is loose, practically a moan, and it stirs Steve up inside. “Want you so bad right now, Stevie,” he whispers, “want you inside me—”

“Bucky,” Steve chokes, feeling himself flush. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, can’t wait for you to fuck me again, it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day.”

Steve stifles a cry with his sleeve between his teeth and comes in his pants, still barely touching himself. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, slowly withdrawing his hand with a wince.

“Stevie? Did you just—”

Steve groans and reaches for some tissue. “Yup.”

“Fuck _me_ that’s hot. That was like, thirty seconds tops.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve grouses, trying to wipe up the mess from the inside of his underwear. It’s unpleasantly damp now, but he’ll just have to deal until he gets home. 

Bucky sighs. “No, dude, that’s like, insanely hot.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, forcing laughter. It shouldn’t be a surprise really. He’s been too tired or stressed out to jerk off for over a week now, so it isn’t much wonder that he’s ready to go off at the hint of a stiff breeze. Still, with how tired he’s been he’s amazed he even got it up. “You’re kinda brilliant, Buck,” he says grudgingly, letting a little warmth breathe into his voice. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Bucky says in a sleepy, contented voice.

Steve frowns. “Wait, did you—did I miss it?”

Bucky giggles. “Sorry.”

“Aw, jeez.” Steve kicks the door open and props the phone between his ear and shoulder so that he can wash his hands. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to give me a repeat performance next time we Skype.”

“With pleasure.”

“Okay, I gotta get back to work so I can finish up and go home.”

Bucky makes a grudging sound of agreement. “Fine, fine. Lemme know when you’re back, kay?”

“Promise. Hey, Bucky?”

“Mm?”

“See you soon.”

—

Bucky cannot sit still, which is kind of an issue when he’s still barely mobile, and his mom glares at him every time he levers himself up from his chair to hobble across the room to the window. 

“For the love of Pete, Jimmy, would you sit down for two minutes together? You _know_ you’re not supposed to keep getting up every ten seconds.”

“I can’t _help it_ , Mom,” he whines, resting his crutch into his armpit so he can lean on the window frame to look out, craning his head around to see up the street. “Steve’s gonna be here any minute.”

She tuts. “He won’t get here any faster if you incapacitate yourself,” she says, looking at him sternly over the top of her kindle. Bucky groans, and hobbles back over to the couch. “And I’m sure you don’t want to spend the whole weekend in bed.”

Bucky just looks at her, struggling to keep his face neutral, but she quickly realizes what she’s said anyway. “Oh, for - look, you’re old enough to make your own choices about sex, but your father and I would rather not hear it, and Becca _definitely_ doesn’t want to.”

“We’ll be quiet, Mom,” he says, grinning. 

Just then, a car pulls up outside, and Bucky hurries over to the window again while his mom groans at him. “Is it him?”

“Yes!” Bucky yelps, watching Steve climb out of the taxi. “Steve!” He knocks on the window pane, and waves frantically, hovering just long enough to watch Steve look around, puzzled, before catching sight of Bucky and flashing him a beautiful smile. Bucky turns and hurries through into the hallway, but his mom beats him to it, and scowls at him as she puts her hand on the door handle. 

“James,” she says warningly, and he skids to a halt in the middle of the floor. “I mean it, okay? I don’t care what you get up to this weekend, but you are going to take care of that leg, alright?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Okay, Mom, I got it.”

“Good.” She leans over to kiss him on the cheek, and brushes his hair to one side, then she turns to open the door. 

Steve is walking up the front path with his backpack on one shoulder and his laptop bag on the other, looking tired and dazed, but as beautiful as Bucky has ever seen him. His mom steps back into the living room to give them a little privacy, and Bucky takes a step forward into the doorway so he can catch Steve in his arms. He wraps his hands low around Steve’s waist, so he can keep his crutches wedged under his arms, and leans in to kiss the side of his neck. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispers, sighing contentedly when Steve’s arms go around his neck and pull him in tight. 

“Missed you too,” Steve says thickly, burying his face in Bucky’s neck. “You look good.”

Bucky grins. “Like water to a man dying of thirst.”

Steve laughs and cuffs him gently on the shoulder. “Shut up, I mean it.” He pulls back far enough that he can look up into Bucky’s face, and he touches Bucky’s bruised cheekbone softly. There’s almost nothing left there of the huge mess his car made of his face, just a yellowish tinge along the outside edge of his eye socket. “Missed you.”

“You said that already,” Bucky says, but he can’t stop smiling, even when he ducks his head to kiss Steve’s upturned mouth. Steve laughs softly, but eventually they make a kiss work, and Bucky pulls back reluctantly, because he knows his mom is still hovering, and probably Becca and his dad too. He balances himself back on his crutches, but his heart sinks when he steps back and gets a good look at Steve. Steve looks even worse than he does; pale and worn-looking, with dark circles under his eyes, and Bucky could swear he’s lost weight since he visited Boston. “You-” he starts, then hesitates, scrambling around for something to say that won’t get Steve on the defensive. “You wanna come take a nap with me? I’ve been awake since five and I’m wrecked.” He leans in when he says it, giving his voice a low, dirty edge, and hoping Steve won’t catch on that he really does just want to nap. 

“Maybe,” Steve says, one corner of his mouth turning up in a weary smile. “I should say hi to your folks first.”

With a roll of his eyes, Bucky herds him into the living room, where his dad and Becca have indeed appeared. Steve is polite and charming in his sweet, shy way, and Bucky doesn’t miss the way Becca blushes when Steve gives her a smile that’s just for her. 

“You want something to eat or drink?”

“Steve and I are gonna take a nap, Mom,” Bucky says giving her a significant look.

She sighs, but just gives him a sweet smile. “I’ll bring you boys some sandwiches, okay? Don’t fall asleep for the next ten minutes.” She catches Bucky’s eye, and he grins and nods. Yeah, yeah, don’t get caught with his pants down, he gets it. He’s got a feeling his mom has still never recovered from the time she caught him making out with their next door neighbor Darren when he was fourteen, their hands down each other’s pants, and she’s always been incredibly careful not to catch him in flagrante with anyone ever since. 

They make conversation a little longer, Bucky’s dad asking Steve all kinds of questions about what he does and how long they’ve been dating and where in New York he lives, etc. Bucky cuts him off when Steve starts swaying on the spot, and reaches out to grab Steve’s arm. “Sorry, Dad,” Bucky says, faking a yawn. “I really gotta rest, you can interrogate Steve over dinner, okay?”

His dad huffs, looking a little offended. “Well, I didn’t mean to _interrogate_ -”

“Come on, Brian, give me a hand in the kitchen.”

Bucky gives his mom a grateful look, and tugs gently on Steve’s arm. “C’mon,” he says. “I’ll show you my room.”

Bucky’s room in his parents' house isn’t really all that exciting; he’s been living full time in Boston for two years now, and his parents have moved since he left home, so he’s never quite had time to unpack everything in this house. The best thing about it is that it’s on the ground floor with a bathroom attached, so he doesn’t have to worry about getting up and down the stairs on his crutches. He shuffles Steve through the door and shuts it behind them. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, dropping his bags straight away. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more sociable later.”

“Right, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I want you to myself,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. He goes over and lowers himself carefully onto the edge of the bed, shoving his crutches aside, before moving to sit back against the pillows. Looking up at Steve, he pats the space beside him and grins. “C’mere.”

Smiling wearily, Steve crawls onto the bed beside him, and Bucky reaches out to pull him closer. "So glad to see you,” Steve mumbles, pushing his face into Bucky’s neck. “The past couple of weeks _sucked_.”

Bucky turns and presses a kiss into Steve’s messy hair. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m really happy that you’re here.”

Steve huffs, tightening his arm around Bucky’s waist for a moment as he snuggles in closer, but Bucky can tell that he’s already half asleep. He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, then strokes down his back gently. Steve makes a soft noise in his throat and his fingers twitch against Bucky’s shirt. Bucky shuts his eyes and wraps himself in the sensation of holding Steve close to him. 

When he wakes up again, Steve is still zonked out against his shoulder, but Bucky’s leg is aching and he needs to move. He’s off the painkillers now, unless it gets _really_ bad, so he just has to grin and bear it. 

“Mm, Bucky?” Steve murmurs, as Bucky tries to shift himself on the bed. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, brushing Steve’s hair to one side and leaning in to kiss his eyebrow. “Just needed to move my leg. Go back to sleep.”

Steve shakes his head. “Nah, s’okay. How long was I out?”

Bucky glances at his alarm clock. “Uh, about two hours I think.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself off of Bucky. “Didn’t mean to come here and crash, I’m sure you don’t wanna waste the weekend sleeping.”

“Hey,” Bucky says, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. “I literally don’t care what we do, I just wanna spend time with you.”

“Yeah, but-”

Bucky cuts him off with a kiss, and Steve melts against him, relaxing back into the mattress. Carefully, Bucky rolls onto his side and pushes his hand up under Steve’s sweater, catching his breath at the feel of Steve’s skin under his fingertips. He presses closer, flattening his hand against Steve’s spine, spreading his fingers up between his shoulderblades. 

“Wait,” Steve whispers, pulling away from him. “I don’t - sorry, I don’t think I can right now-”

“Hey, relax,” Bucky says, taking his hand out of Steve’s shirt and reaching up to cup his face instead. “Too tired?”

Steve nods tightly, his eyes averted. Bucky rubs the tip of his nose against Steve’s. “I didn’t ask you here just for sex, you know.”

“I know,” Steve mutters, in a tone that makes it clear he’s not quite convinced. 

“I have an idea,” Bucky says, running his fingers through Steve’s hair and enjoying the way he pushes into it like a cat. “How about after dinner we grab some snacks, get in bed and watch Winter Soldier?”

Steve snorts. “Right, your family will just love me if we spend the whole time hiding in your bedroom.”

“Steve.” Bucky kisses him gently. “I don’t care. They’ve been driving me crazy for two weeks, I want to see _you_. I _love_ you.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says quietly. “I’m sure I’ll be okay tomorrow, this week’s just catching up with me.” He smiles, hooking his fingers into Bucky’s waistband and kissing him softly. “Love you too.” 

—

Things start to go downhill when they venture out of Bucky’s room. If it had been anyone else, or if he hadn't been missing Bucky like a missing limb, Steve would have cancelled his visit. He probably should have anyway. He’s finally caught up on his school work, but he’s still got the freelance work to finish over the weekend, and he was exhausted even before the three hour journey. The last thing he wants to do is make a bad impression on Bucky's family, especially considering how they all met, but he barely has the energy for Bucky, let alone for his parents.

Luckily, when they emerge, Bucky's parents are nowhere in sight. Becca is sprawled on the couch watching TV.

"Where's Mom and Dad?"

"I think they went to the store," she says, shrugging without looking over at them. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Bucky says, sitting down beside her and putting his arm around her. “What’s up with you today? You mad at me?”

“No,” she says crossly, which makes Bucky laugh. He looks up at Steve and grins, patting the space beside him. Steve catches Becca give him a brief, nervous glance before flicking her eyes back to the TV, and he frowns as he takes a seat beside Bucky. From the way Bucky talked about her, he got the sense she never stopped talking, and Bucky hadn’t mentioned her being shy, but maybe it’s something about _him._

When Steve sits down, Bucky slings his arm around his shoulders without asking. Normally Steve would like how casual Bucky is with his affection, but he feels strange and awkward around Bucky’s family, and he doesn’t lean in and snuggle up the way he wants to. After a moment, Bucky gives him a strange, hurt look, but Steve smiles reassuringly and Bucky pulls away again with a shrug.

“How’s school, Becky?” Bucky asks, nudging his sister with his good leg. 

She scowls. “Same as it was last week.”

“You’re into drama, right?” Steve asks, forcing cheerfulness past his fuzzy, sleepy brain. “Bucky said you’re really good.”

“I dunno,” she says, blushing at the TV. “I’m okay I guess.”

“You were in a play this year?”

She shakes her head. “A musical.”

Steve leans around Bucky to give her an encouraging smile. “Yeah? Which one?”

“Grease,” she mutters, sinking lower in her seat. 

“Yeah? I was in Grease when I in high school, except I was just a kid who got knocked over by a bully.” Bucky starts laughing at that, and Steve grins and elbows him in the ribs. “Shut up, loser.”

“Becca’s got you beat,” he says, still giggling. “She played Zuko. It's an all-girls school so all the parts were played by girls."

Steve grins at her. "Really? That's awesome! I can't sing to save my life, you must be awesome if you were the lead." Becca shrugs, but she looks a little pleased, and Steve keeps talking. "Are you gonna be an actor when you're older?"

"I dunno, maybe," she says, finally glancing over at him. "I've got a couple of years in high school to get through yet, but I'd like to go to drama school."

"Got any in mind?" She shakes her head. "Well, you've got loads of time to decide. If you ever need any help looking at places in New York, let me know."

Bucky strokes his fingers along Steve's wrist. "Like she'll need it," he says fondly. "We grew up there, remember?"

"Ah, yeah, I forgot," Steve says, nudging him again. "Y'all sound so fuckin' Northern, I can't tell."

Bucky cackles. "Y'all? Shut the hell up."

“Don’t pick a fight you can’t win, Barnes,” Steve says, giving Bucky’s leg a significant look. He makes a thoughtful noise, then reaches down and strokes Bucky’s knee gently. “Hey, I just thought, you save me some space?”

“Dude, of course!”

Steve leans down and carefully rolls up the leg of Bucky’s sweatpants over his cast. “Jeez, that driver really did a number on you.”

“Are you gonna draw something?” Becca asks, leaning forward to peer down at the cast. Steve runs his palm over the rough surface of it and smiles up at her. 

“Yeah, I think I brought some sharpies with me.” He grins. “Did Bucky tell you I can draw?”

She shakes her head. “How come you call him Bucky?”

Bucky groans. “It’s just a nickname. How come we call you Becky, huh?”

“To piss me off,” she snaps, and sticks her tongue out at him. “Anyway, Bucky isn’t short for James.”

“Shut up, Becky.”

Steve laughs at their matching indignant expressions. “I’m gonna fetch my markers.”

When he gets back, Steve throws a pillow on the floor and crouches down next to Bucky’s leg so he can draw. He doodles for about an hour, while Bucky and Becca chat and suggest things for him to draw, before he realizes how stiff his back and neck have gotten. He needs to get up and stretch, but he doesn't have the energy to make it to his feet. He's gonna have to ask Bucky for help. 

“You’re really good!” Becca says excitedly, getting down on the carpet for a closer look at the cast. “These are so cute, and the colors are great too!” She glares at Bucky. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he was good at art!”

Bucky rolls his eyes at her. “I told you he was a graphic designer.”

“That’s not the same as _drawing_ ,” she insists petulantly. “Dammit, Bucky, you get all the cute guys.”

“Oh, do you?” Steve says, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. He can tell out of the corner of his eye that Becca is blushing again, so he focuses on Bucky instead, reaching up to rest a hand on his thigh. It distracts him from the stiffness in his joints for a minute, while he works out how he's gonna deal with it.

Just then, the front door opens as Bucky’s parents get home, and Becca jumps up to help.

“Ignore her,” Bucky says, sliding his hand into Steve’s. “She’s a grade A prankster.”

Steve smiles tightly and motions Bucky closer. Bucky leans in, his face brightening. Steve has to look away. "Buck, I - I can't get up."

“Shit,” Bucky says, his voice getting tight and anxious. “Do you - should I get help?”

“I-” Steve hesitates, wincing. He can’t ask Bucky to help him when he’s injured like this, but he _definitely_ doesn’t want Bucky’s family seeing him like this. “I think I just need a minute.”

Bucky frowns. “If I get you up, you gonna be able to stand?”

Steve scowls at the carpet. “You’re hurt, Bucky, you need to rest, not to be chasing around after me.”

“Quit that,” Bucky says sharply. With a deep breath, he starts to push himself up from the couch. Steve can tell he’s struggling to hold in a groan, but he seems better once he’s up. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds. “Once I’m up it’s okay, it’s just gettin’ there.” He jams his crutches under his armpits again and reaches a hand out to Steve. “C’mon, sweetheart, let me help.”

Folding away his scowl, Steve grabs hold of Bucky's wrist with one hand and the edge of the couch with the other. Bucky counts to three, then he tugs Steve up in one smooth movement, Steve levering himself up from the couch at the same time. His knees and shoulders _burn_ , but they get him upright, and he pulls away from Bucky as soon as he finds his feet.

"Thanks," he mutters, looking down at the carpet.

Bucky hobbles closer with his crutches and ducks his head close to Steve's, bending slowly to kiss his cheek. "You're thinking about me naked," he whispers, his lips teasing against Steve's earlobe.

Steve grins reluctantly. "Okay, that helps a bit."

"You're welcome."

“So, you don’t get all the cute guys?” Steve teases, dropping his voice so only Bucky will hear. “What does that say about me?”

“Fine, I get _plenty_ of cute ones,” he murmurs, chuckling against Steve’s throat. “But you’re the cutest of all the cute ones, obviously.”

“Jimmy, Steve!" Bucky's mom yells from the next room. "We got takeout! Come sit up at the table!”

Bucky pecks Steve on the cheek again. "Sorry. They'll leave us alone after this, I promise."

Steve shrugs. "How terrible of them to provide me with sustenance. Honestly, you Barneses are a bunch of feeders."

“You got no idea,” Bucky says, squeezing his hand before he drops it to use his crutches. “I thought Mom was gonna tie you down and feed you til you burst. She still might.”

“She’ll have to catch me first,” Steve mutters. “I’m pretty speedy.”

They’re still giggling when they finally make their way to the table, Bucky emphasizing the struggle he’s having with his crutches to disguise the fact that Steve is moving slow and stiff. Bucky’s mom raises her eyebrow at them trying not to laugh, but doesn’t otherwise comment. 

“So, Steve,” says Bucky’s dad Brian as soon as they’re seated. “James tells us you’re an artist?”

“Something like that,” Steve mutters, ducking his head. Under the table, Bucky puts a hand on his thigh. “I’m still in college, for one more semester anyway.”

“Becky, pass Steve the noodles,” Judith puts in. Without looking at him, Becca grabs one of the takeout boxes and passes it along.

“And what will you do when you graduate?” Brian asks. 

Bucky squeezes Steve’s knee gently before letting go and helping himself to some food. Steve licks his bottom lip nervously. He should’ve expected the third degree; they never really got around to it last time, what with the hospital, and with Clint providing welcome interference. “Um. I do some freelance work, and I’m applying to a couple of firms for an internship.”

“Graphic design, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I have a couple of contacts through work, I’ll see if I can put you in touch.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir, but that’s not necessary,” Steve says, before looking down at his plate to hide his flush. He spears a piece of chicken and starts to chew it methodically.

“Leave the boy alone, Brian, he’s trying to eat!” Judith says in a voice of fond exasperation. She pushes a basket of rolls towards Steve. “Here, sweetheart, you look as if you could use a good meal.”

Bucky groans. “Mom!”

“What! I know what you students are like, living off ramen and cheap beer.”

“Steve doesn’t even drink, Mom.”

“Just ramen then,” Becky says in a sulky voice.

Brian seizes on her. “How’s school, Becky?”

She groans, sounding just like Bucky. “God, it’s _fine_. Why does everyone keep _asking_ me?”

Grabbing her plate, Becky pushes her chair back and storms out of the room. Brian and Judith both yell at her to come back, but she ignores them and stomps up the stairs instead. Brian starts to get out of his chair but Judith shakes her head. Steve and Bucky exchange an awkward look. 

“Just let her be,” Judith mutters, “I’ll speak to her later.”

“Mom, may we be excused?” Bucky asks pointedly. 

Judith sighs and gives him a weary smile. “Fine, fine. I’m sure you boys want some time to yourselves. Leave your plates outside your room when you’re done, okay?”

Bucky smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Mom.” They both shuffle to their feet again and Steve grabs both their plates. 

“Um. Thank you for dinner,” Steve says, hoping he sounds genuine despite his tiredness. 

"Come _on_ ," Bucky yells, laughing as he drags Steve off towards his room. "Later, Mom, Dad!" 

Back in Bucky's room, Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He hasn't done the whole meeting-the-family thing in a while, and while it ought to be less stressful considering they've met before, Steve still feels a little guilty, as if Bucky's accident was somehow partly his fault. Bucky sits first and takes the plates from Steve so he can get himself settled on the bed. When Steve Goss to take his food back, Bucky leans in and kisses his cheek.

"You okay?"

Steve nods. "Fine."

"And once more with feeling?"

"I'm _fine_ ," he snaps, and the words are barely out before he feels the guilt settle on him. "I'm fine," he says again more quietly. "Let's just eat, yeah?"

Bucky shrugs and digs into his noodles with relish. Rather than diminish his appetite, the injury only seems to have made him more ravenous than usual, and so when he's done with his food and Steve has given up on his own, Bucky finishes that off too.

"Sure I can't get you something else?" Bucky asks with a worried expression. He starts to get up to take the plates to the door, but Steve pushes him back down. 

"I'll get it. I'm okay, really, I'll steal a piece of toast or something later."

Shrugging, Bucky moves onto the bed properly, leaving room for Steve to join him. "You mind if I take my pants off?"

Steve doesn't have to force a smile for that. "It's about time," he murmurs, unzipping his jeans and stepping out of them. 

Bucky drags his eyes over Steve unapologetically. "Fuck, I missed you so much." He holds his arms out and Steve crawls into them willingly. Bucky hugs him tight, burying his face in Steve's hair. "You smell so good."

"Fair warning," Steve mumbles against Bucky's soft t-shirt. "'m gonna fall asleep again."

"Good," Bucky whispers, petting his hair gently. "We can watch the movie when you wake up."

"Mkay."

—

Bucky wakes up and grins when he realizes he's tucked up against Steve's back. His arm hangs loosely around Steve's waist, and he can feel his chest moving gently as he breathes. Sighing happily, Bucky pushes his face into Steve's hair and pulls him closer. 

"Mornin', cowboy," Steve mumbles, pushing back against him. "Is it safe keeping that six shooter in your pocket?”

Bucky snorts and angles his hips away. "Sorry, she missed you."

"She?"

"Uh huh. And I dunno about six, but I reckon I could go for at least two.”

Steve giggles and shifts back into his arms. The movement jolts Bucky’s leg, and he gasps in pain and clutches reflexively at Steve’s chest. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck _fuck_.”

Steve sits up quickly when Bucky rolls onto his back. “Shit, Buck? Are you okay, sweets?”

Bucky nods, breathing out slowly through the pain. "Just jarred it.”

“Here,” Steve says, holding out his hand. “Squeeze my hand as hard as you like, it’ll help.”

Bucky interlaces his fingers with Steve’s and squeezes as hard as he dares, because he knows Steve can take a lot, but he still doesn’t want to hurt him. Steve knows what he’s talking about though, because it takes the focus off the searing sensation in his calf. He forces himself to breathe calmly for a couple of minutes, and Steve just holds his hand through it, whispering to him occasionally.

“Okay,” Bucky says at last, loosening his sweaty grip on Steve’s hand. “I’m okay, sorry.”

Steve kisses his cheek, then down to his mouth. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. I should’ve remembered. You want me to get you anything?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah. Anyway, I’m looking after _you_ this weekend.”

“We can look after each other,” Steve says, chuckling. Bucky puts his arm around Steve’s waist and pulls him close to kiss him, morning breath and all. “I guess that took the edge off your hard on, huh?”

“A little,” Bucky says regretfully. Steve laughs at his expression, and Bucky leans in to nip at his throat. “You’re the worst.”

“We’re just such fucking disasters,” Steve says, grinning at him when he pulls back. He brushes Bucky’s hair back off his forehead, then trails his fingers down the side of Bucky’s neck and down his chest. “Now, maybe I’m not up to screwing, but how about I show you just how sexy a sponge bath can be?”

Bucky groans and pulls Steve closer. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

Unfortunately, someone chooses that moment to knock on his door. 

“Jimmy? Steve? I’m making pancakes!”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers, tucking his face into Steve’s armpit. “We’ll be out in a minute, Mom!”

Steve flops onto his back with a sigh and Bucky pulls a face. “Sorry,” he says, wincing. “They’re just really excited that I have a boyfriend.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Steve says, turning to him with a crooked smile. “I’m glad they care.”

They drag themselves out of bed, albeit not that quickly. Bucky can't take his eyes off Steve, which in turn means he can't keep his _hands_ off Steve, which leads to a lot of half dressed nuzzling and making out before they manage to get themselves looking halfway decent and out of the bedroom. 

Bucky's mom gives him a disapproving look when they finally take a seat in front of a stack of pancakes each, but he ignores her and leans in to nuzzle the side of Steve's neck with his nose. Steve flushes pink and shoves him away under the table with a worried glance at Bucky's mom, but she's not paying attention anymore. 

"This is a lot of pancakes," Steve whispers, biting his lip. "Will she be offended if I don't finish?" 

"I'll help," Bucky says, picking up his fork and cutting a chunk off. "Just eat what you want."

Bucky's pretty sure he told his mom _not_ to worry about cooking for them, and definitely not to make Steve anything with too much sugar, like pancakes, so he's assuming the worst; she took one look at Steve and made it her personal mission to feed him up. 

The trouble is, Bucky can't really fault her. He's sure that Steve has lost weight just in the weeks since they saw one another, and given that he was recovering from being sick then he ought to be putting on weight, not losing more. Bucky wishes he had Sam's number, but Steve would flip his shit if he found Bucky going behind his back like that. He contents himself with watching Steve pick listlessly at his breakfast and comes up with plans to feed him later. 

When they're done with breakfast—when Steve has eaten barely half and Bucky has eaten his own _and_ Steve's leftovers—Steve goes to take a shower and Bucky's mom pulls his aside. 

"Jimmy, is everything alright with Steve?"

"Uh, meaning?" Bucky says, reaching for excuses. He hasn't actually checked with Steve yet if it's okay to tell his parents about Steve's illness, and he really gets the sense that _it is not okay_. 

"He doesn't seem that happy to be here," she says, and presses her mouth together into an unhappy line. "Is he—maybe he doesn't like us?"

Bucky stares at her, then he starts to laugh. "Mom, you serious? Steve thinks you're great, all of you! He's just having a rough time with school, that's all."

She makes a thoughtful noise which doesn't sound convinced. "Well, I just think he could do a little more to help out. From what I've seen, you've been doing all the work."

"It's fine, Mom," Bucky says, feeling his shoulders get tense. "Steve's my boyfriend not my fucking nurse."

His mom looks scandalized. "James Barnes! Watch your mouth."

"Watch yours," Bucky snaps, turning as quickly as he can manage on crutches and hobbling off to his bedroom. He hears his mom shouting after him but he ignores her and slams the bedroom door behind him.

“Buck?” Steve calls out from the bathroom. 

“Yeah, it’s just me.”

“Everything okay?”

Bucky sighs. He pushes himself away from the door and walks over to the bathroom. The door is just ajar, and when he pushes it open he can see Steve, blurry behind the shower curtain, pink and perfect. 

“Hey,” he says, breaking into a smile.

Steve sticks his head around the curtain and grins. His eyes look huge without his glasses, his expression a little strange as he struggles to focus. “Hey there. I guess sharing a shower is out of the question.”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, I guess.” He glances down at his cast and pulls a face. “Such a shame, but I guess I can appreciate the view from here instead.”

Instead of replying, Steve just sticks his tongue out and slips back behind the curtain. “At least you’ve got that sponge bath to look forward to,” he says, just loudly enough to be heard over the spray.

Desire surges through Bucky. “Oh man, are you serious? Don’t tease me right now, dude, my heart can’t take it.”

Steve pokes his head out again, his hair full of shampoo lather this time. “It’s a _promise_.”

Bucky walks over to the edge of the bathtub and pushes the shower curtain aside so he can get his arms around Steve. 

“Buck!” Steve yelps, giggling. He twists in Bucky’s arms, making an attempt to get free, but Bucky grabs hold of his ass and pulls him close. “I’ll get you soaked!” Steve complains.

“Don’t care,” Bucky murmurs, standing on tiptoe on his good leg. Steve obligingly wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck and leans down to kiss him. His mouth is warm and soft, no taste of anything much at all besides toothpaste. It’s strange, but pleasant, to have Steve leaning over him, and he wonders if Steve feels this warm sense of protection when Bucky holds him and kisses him. He smiles, and feels Steve smile too. “Wanna go back to bed?” 

Steve makes a noise that could quite comfortably be defined as _purring_ and turns his head so that he can dig his teeth into Bucky’s neck. He snags a tendon gently between his teeth and Bucky feels himself go weak at the knees. 

“Jesus,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tight around Steve’s waist, because he’s far too slippery to hold on to otherwise. “That better be a yes.”

“Go lie down,” Steve murmurs, straightening up. “I gotta rinse off. You got a washcloth around here? Basin?”

“Check in the closet there,” Bucky says in a dazed voice, staggering back to the door. “I’ll just—I’ll uh—”

Steve grins and whips the curtain back across, effectively cutting him off. Bucky takes the hint and goes back to bed. With a little difficulty he gets his pajama pants off, then pulls off his t-shirt and lies back on top of the comforter in his underwear. He can hear his parents talking loudly—arguing maybe—in some distant part of the house, but they’re far away enough that he can pretend they’re not here. That _he’s_ not here, but back in Boston with Clint instead. The yelling is just his neighbors down the hall.

The shower stops and Bucky can hear Steve moving around, drying off and rustling through the linen closet. When he comes in a few minutes later he’s still naked, but he grabs a clean pair of boxers out of his bag and shimmies into them before he comes over to the bed. 

“You find what you wanted?” Bucky murmurs, reaching for him. 

Steve nods and leans down for a kiss, stretched over him with his arms bracketing Bucky’s face. “Missed you,” he whispers just before their mouths meet. 

Bucky slides his hand along the warm delicate plane of Steve’s slim back, but he doesn’t try to pull him closer. He returns Steve’s gentle kiss and breathes in the damp, clean scent of his skin. A tingling sensation shivers through Bucky’s body and he feels Steve smile in response. 

“Think you can handle this?” he mutters. 

“Anything you can throw at me, Rogers.”

Grinning, Steve rolls off him and goes to grab a basin of hot water and a washcloth. He lays a towel down on top of the comforter and pats it gently. “C’mon,” he says in a quiet, sing-song voice that makes Bucky feel like he’s eight years old, being fussed over by the school nurse. It’s weirdly kind of hot. He moves over, getting himself settled, and Steve presses his palm gently on Bucky’s chest. “Lay down,” he murmurs. “Lemme take care of _you_ for once.”

“Okay,” Bucky whispers, gazing up at him with a stupid, lovestruck expression no doubt. 

Steve starts slow—and innocent—by wiping the cloth gently over Bucky’s face and washing his forehead, cheeks, his eyelids. He even scrubs carefully behind Bucky’s ears, which makes him laugh. Bucky reaches out to touch Steve’s thigh, not to start anything, just to be touching him. Steve dunks the cloth in the water and wrings it out so that it’s hot again when he strokes it down Bucky’s neck and traces his collarbone. He takes a little time soaping up the cloth and scrubbing at Bucky’s armpits, screwing up his face and poking his tongue out in exaggerated concentration. Bucky wants to laugh again, but Steve is so careful with him. He’s not gentle even, but it’s tender and intimate, and Bucky feels something like the first time they met and Steve fell asleep in his arms. He hopes that Steve felt even _half_ this protected and loved and cared for.

Steve washes his arms and hands, turning his wrists carefully and cupping each finger in the warm cloth, and some shy, traitorous part of Bucky wants to turn his face into Steve’s belly and cry until he’s all cried out. His emotions have been roaming all over the place since the accident, so at least he can blame hormones. Crying just because someone is being so _nice_ to him feels a little stupid, and he takes the opportunity while Steve is topping up the hot water to wipe his eyes on his comforter. 

“You okay, gorgeous?” Steve whispers when he tiptoes back and perches on the bed beside Bucky again. He ducks his head and leaves a little row of soft kisses along Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky wraps an arm around his shoulders to keep him close, and fits their mouths together carefully. Steve exhales through his nose sharply, his breath warm on Bucky’s cheek, but he doesn’t pull away.

“I’m great,” Bucky murmurs when they separate. “This—this is—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Steve mutters, and winks at him. “The best part’s still to come.”

“Wait,” Bucky says quietly, tightening his hold when Steve starts to pull away. Steve looks at him curiously, his brow curving with concern. “It’s okay, I just—can we just lie here, for a minute?”

Steve huffs and flashes his crooked smile. “Didn’t we do enough of that already? I kinda wanna make the most of it while I’ve got a little energy.”

“I know, we will, I just—I just—”

“Shh,” Steve whispers quickly, moving the wash things to one side. He curls up beside Bucky, mindful of his cast. “Of course we can, it’s okay. I don’t care what we do, okay? I’m just glad to be here with you in one piece.”

Bucky bites his lip and buries his face in Steve’s damp hair. “I’m so fucking glad I met you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says in a voice like sunshine. “Me too, Buck.”


	15. Tune in for the exciting conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :3 
> 
> We did it. There's one more chapter to go, which will be an epilogue set a short while after the main story, but this is the end of the main story.
> 
> Thank you, so much, to everyone who stuck with this. Especially to those who have been following since the start. I feel for you guys, you've had a long wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (there's some minor Clint/Bucky in this chapter. pay no attention to that. I promise it's not here to stay)

**notjustaprettyfist**  
Right, Rogers, you'd better be awake.  
I'm working from home because of a chest infection which means I'm all yours for the next three hours.

 **pictureofhealth**  
you have a chest infection and you're still working??

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
I'm 'working'.  
Mostly I'm watching Netflix and eating soup while I check my emails every half hour.  
How are you, darling?  
How's Bucky?

 **pictureofhealth**  
he's great : >  
spent the weekend with his family and im p sure they hate me

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
What??

 **pictureofhealth**  
as far as I can tell bucky still likes me so that's good

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
What makes you think they hate you?  
Did they say something?  
I'll mail them a glitter bomb, what's the address?

 **pictureofhealth**  
nah don't do that. idk i just get the sense they expected ... more  
just more for bucky generally than someone like me

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Okay you can stop right there because you are the MOST anyone I've ever fucking met.  
And apparently Bucky agrees, so who gives a shit what his stupid family think?

 **pictureofhealth**  
pmsl  
thats more or less what bucky said  
:3

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
You have good taste in love interests.

 **pictureofhealth**  
don't need to tell me twice 

**notjustaprettyfist**  
Fine, fine, enough about disapproving parents. Please tell me all about you and Bucky and your sex life.  
Start wherever you like.

 **pictureofhealth**  
what's in it for me?

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
I'll tell you about my new girlfriend.

 **pictureofhealth**  
!!!!!!  
Ru fuckin serious carter that first  
tell Tell tell

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
I asked first.

 **pictureofhealth**  
omg  
Fine.  
went up middletown on friday, hugged bucky a lot, took naps, watched tons of awkward family drama unfold before my eyes

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Oh Christ. That sounds gruelling.

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah his little sister becca is 16 so perfect age for teen angst  
altho Tbf bucky said she isn't usually like that  
but yeah she was really weird around me, and kept getting into arguments with their folks  
bucky was pretty embarrassed bless him but he said it's pretty much business as usual

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Count your blessings you don't have a big family, sweetheart.

 **pictureofhealth**  
no kidding  
anyway it was a liiiittle awkward bc bucky really wanted to have sex  
I mean i did too  
but yeah my body was not really getting with the program  
idk if it's because I was tired or the extra stress of his family being around and not liking me and blah blah

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Oh sweetheart :( I'm so sorry  
But I suppose at the end of the day, it's just sex. You two still had fun?

 **pictureofhealth**  
Yeah?  
I mean yeah we did but i'm worried i was a duck  
*dick ffs  
i've been going full tilt for a couple weeks I guess it  
caught up to me this weekend

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Dammit Steve  
You need to go easy on yourself.

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah well sometimes I can't okay?  
I have work to do  
and schoolwork and stuff  
it's not like I'm trying to train for a marathon  
throw in a relationship too  
a long distance one at that  
and there just aren't enough fucking hours in the day

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Steve, hey, I'm sorry  
I didn't mean to patronise you.

 **pictureofhealth**  
yeah i know  
sorry  
i’m okay though  
iI mean i’m pretty destroyed today but I’ll just rest a couple of days and it’ll be fine

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Alright.  
Just promise me you’ll take it easy.  
So, want to hear about this gorgeous girlfriend of mine?

 **pictureofhealth**  
and how!! :D

 **notjustaprettyfist**  
Okay, just let me make another pot of tea  
Then I shall reveal all.

\--

Bucky’s never been more glad to see Clint than the day they drive back to Boston. He’s never been more glad that they have a second floor apartment and he only has to navigate one flight of stairs. He’s never been more glad that Clint is his best friend when he walks (well, hobbles) in and finds that his room’s been tidied, his college notes are waiting in a neat stack on his desk, and all his laundry has been washed and put away. 

“Dude,” he says in a slightly broken voice, balancing on his crutches with one arm so he can hold the other out to Clint. “Get the fuck in here.”

“Oh my god, are you gonna cry?” Clint asks as he sweeps Bucky into a warm, overwhelming hug. He’s taller than Bucky by a good four or five inches and he gives damn good hugs. Bucky sniffles and Clint rubs his back. “I know, dude, I know. It’s good to have you back.”

They pull back after an _embarrassingly_ long hug, and while Bucky wipes at his eyes he's somewhat gratified to see Clint doing the same. 

“God fuckin’ bless you for rescuing me from my parents, Barton,” he says, forcing a grin. “Can we get drunk now?”

Clint grabs his face and leans in as if he's gonna kiss him. Instead he just gets menacingly close and then whispers, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Thanks to Bucky's enforced sobriety over several weeks confined to a hospital bed and then kept under his mother's watchful eye, it takes him approximately two thirds of a beer to get tipsy, and another two thirds to realize that if he keeps going he'll definitely do something dumb, like falling over or kissing Clint. 

Unfortunately, he keeps going.

\--

The next morning - early afternoon, whatever - Bucky wakes up in a bed that's not his own. For a moment he thinks he's at his parents’ place, then he feels the weight in the bed next to him and realizes he must be at Steve's apartment. He's just been dreaming about Steve, he's sure. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling over carefully and putting his arm around Steve's waist. Steve snuggles back against him and Bucky kisses the back of his neck, dipping down below the collar of his shirt. 

Steve groans and pushes Bucky's hand lower, pressing his hand over the bulge in his boxers. 

“Oh yeah,” Bucky moans gently, stroking Steve through his underwear. He's gone more than a month now without getting to touch Steve like this and it's driving him crazy. “Oh baby, you feel good, can I get you off?”

“Uh huh,” Steve murmurs, pressing back against him even more. 

Bucky kisses the back of Steve's neck again while he works a hand into his boxers and strokes him firmly. Steve puts a hand back to grab his ass and pull him closer, and for several long, lazy minutes they just rock against each other sleepily, Bucky moving his hand unhurriedly on Steve's dick. He half dozes off for a little while, still hazy with sleep and the leftover alcohol in his system, and he dreams again about kissing Steve, of Steve’s lush pink mouth moving under his own and his fingers in Steve’s soft hair.

“Stevie,” he whispers, tightening his grip on Steve’s dick and smiling when he gasps and twitches. 

Steve turns his head, putting his hand up to the back of Bucky’s neck so they can kiss. “Jamie—” he murmurs against Bucky’s mouth.

James moans and kisses him harder, but something about it feels wrong. Steve has never once called him James or Jamie, his mouth feels different than usual—hell, even his _dick_ feels bigger than usual, and he doesn’t really get stubble. The only person Bucky knows with real sandpaper stubble like that is—

“Clint! What the _fuck_?”

“James? Oh my god get your hand out of my pants! Barnes!”

Bucky tries to yank his hand free but his wrist gets stuck on Clint’s waistband. “Fuck! Take them off!”

“Why are you in my bed?” Clint shrieks, trying to pull his boxers down without Bucky touching his dick again. It doesn’t really work, and then Clint moves suddenly and Bucky’s fist knocks into Clint’s balls. “ _Oh my fucking God ow_.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whines, fumbling to sit up. He glances around desperately for his crutches. “What—how the fuck did I even get in here? God, my ass hurts. Clint, why does my ass hurt? What did you do?”

Clint just moans in response, curled up around his junk with his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m gonna puke,” he whispers.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “C’mon, dude, I know it sucks but I didn’t hit you that hard—”

He stops talking because Clint surges forward and pukes all over the bed, the nightstand and the floor beside it. Bucky heaves a huge sigh, not least because his own head is starting to pound and he’s pretty sure he’s gonna be throwing up himself soon enough. He runs a hand over his face wearily and then realizes it’s the same hand that he’s just been using to jerk Clint off.

“Christ on a fucking canoe,” he says, sighing again. “Stay the fuck there. I’m calling Kate.”

\--

Suffice it to say that Steve isn't exactly _surprised_ when he gets a groveling phone call the morning after Bucky’s entire ass appears on tumblr. It happens long after Steve has passed out in front of a movie, and already has three hundred notes when he sees it in the morning. Bucky’s garbled drunken texts are a little hard to parse, but from what Steve can make out, he and Clint were dancing on the coffee table, and Bucky slipped and fell on his ass. And then, for some totally unfathomable reason, posted a picture of it on tumblr. 

“Hey there,” he says when Bucky calls him a little after three. “Exciting night.”

Bucky doesn’t reply for a moment, but Steve can hear him breathing. “Yeah,” he sighs. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I have _some_ idea,” Steve said, trying to crush the sense of worry that this isn’t going to be as straightforward as he thought. “Along with half of fandom.” Again, Bucky’s quiet. Steve picks up a pen and starts doodling on a corner of his sketchbook, idly attempting to distract himself from the antsy feeling that’s starting to gnaw at him.. “Buck?”

“So, I have to tell you something,” Bucky says eventually. He almost sounds like he’s shaking. Steve starts to panic.

“Tell me what?”

“We got drunk.” Bucky sighs. “I mean, _really_ drunk.”

Steve’s heart jumps into his throat. He realizes that Bucky’s never spoken to him like this before. Whatever he’s done might be something they can’t come back from. “Bucky,” he says in a shaky voice. “Honey, what happened? If you’re punking me, so fuckin’ help me—”

“No, no,” Bucky says quietly. “I’ll tell you, just wait till I’m done, okay? Then you—you can say anything you want.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, biting down on the inside of his mouth. 

Bucky takes another deep breath, preparing himself for whatever he’s about to say. Steve chews his cheek harder. He wants to throw up.

“I kind of accidentally had sex with Clint.”

There’s a long, awkward silence. Steve stares right ahead of him, his gaze passing right through the drawings tacked to the wall and the wobbly freestanding clothes rack he has in place of a wardrobe. He can’t find a meaning in what Bucky’s said. The words don’t make sense. They don’t mean anything. Steve understands each of them separately but as a sentence, or a statement of fact, he’s totally lost. 

“Huh?” he says at last.

Bucky makes a soft, distressed noise. “I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so sorry. I know people say that, but it really _was_ an accident.”

Steve chews his cheek again briefly. “Wait, I’m—I’m confused. You did _what_?”

“Oh god,” Bucky moans, his voice shaking. “Okay, okay. So I—I don’t remember much of last night. Standard us, right? But I woke up this morning and, god, I guess I’ve been moving around so much that when I saw it wasn’t my room or my parents’ house, I got confused and I thought I was with you.” He pauses, maybe waiting for Steve to acknowledge what he’s said. But then he carries on, as if he suspects that Steve hasn’t understood. “But it was Clint. We fell asleep in his bed.”

“Um. Okay?” Steve says quietly. His mind has started to race through possibilities. His head is full of all the times he and Bucky have fooled around, every little trick of Bucky’s mouth; the way he kisses, or the way he sucks possessively on the end of Steve’s dick when he’s going down on him. Steve shimmies across the bed and reaches down to tug the wastepaper basket closer. He really thinks he might hurl. “So, what,” he mutters when Bucky doesn’t elucidate. “You guys woke up and remembered what you’d been doing?”

“No!” Bucky says quickly. “God no, you don’t get it. Stevie, I _thought I was with you_. When I woke up. Clint and I were kind of—uh, spooning, and—well, I started touching him because I thought he was you.”

Steve frowns. “Wait, what? When did you realize?”

“Uh—”

“Wait. Clint is six foot two, Bucky!”

Bucky groans loudly. “I _know_ , oh my god. I was half asleep, I wasn’t thinking.” He sighs again and speaks up sounding thoroughly miserable. “I’m so sorry. Clint’s so sorry. Really, Steve, we’re just—fuck, we’re sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve takes a deep breath and sits up. “Okay. So, tell me what happened.”

“Aw, Steve, you don’t wanna hear that.”

“No, I really do.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment. “Um. So, we were spooning, and I had my arm around his waist and he kinda—you know, moved my hand down.” Bucky groans. “Fuck, this sounds terrible. In his defence, I’m pretty sure he was still asleep.”

Steve snorts. “Um, Bucky.”

“So I started jerking him off, because I thought it was you, Stevie, and I know I’m a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner but I was half asleep, and I _miss_ you so I didn’t wanna question it, and—”

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve says loudly, struggling not to laugh

“Um, yeah?”

Steve bites back a giggle. “I am so fucking mad at you—”

“Oh.”

“—for making me think this was a big fucking deal.”

“Wait, what?”

“Bucky!” Steve says, finally laughing out loud. “Come on, really? You guys accidentally groped each other in your sleep. It’s hardly a hanging offence.”

Bucky whines. “I wasn’t asleep, Steve, I should’ve known better.”

Steve snorts loudly. “Bucky, c’mon, can you really tell me you were in full control of your faculties?”

“I—I guess not?”

“And did you knowingly and deliberately go behind my back to fool around with someone else?”

“No!” Bucky says quickly, sounding distraught. “Stevie, god, I would never. I’d _never_ do that.”

Steve grins. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh. So, you’re not mad? Or upset?”

Steve sighs and flops back against his pillow. “I don’t know. I’m pretty jealous.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, stupid, I miss you too.”

“Oh, good.” 

They sit in silence for a few moments, Steve enjoying the sound of Bucky’s quiet breaths in his ear.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks quietly. 

Steve has to smother a yawn. “Yeah,” he said softly, shimmying down on the bed. “I gotta take a nap though.”

Bucky makes a quiet noise of disappointment. “Okay, sugarbutt.”

Steve giggles. “Gross. I’ll text you when I wake up.”

“Hey, Stevie, thanks for understanding.”

“Mm no problem,” Steve says sleepily. “Bye, Buck.”

\--

A few days go by where Steve doesn’t make it to college, sleeping through every single alarm and finally clawing his way out of sleep far too late to do anything useful with his day. Steve assured Sam he’d be okay for a few days, so Sam’s been visiting with his girlfriend’s parents. He offered to arrange cover, but Steve said that he’d prefer to do it himself. Just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean he’s neglecting himself. Bucky’s been in touch constantly in any case, checking up on him. He’s getting his cast off soon, which maybe explains why his texts have been sounding more and more frantic. Steve doesn’t blame him; he’s used to being stuck in one place, held back by his body. It must be driving Bucky up the wall. 

It’s almost a week since he’s been able to go to class when Steve hears back about an application he put in the week before. He gets the email first thing in the morning, while he's trying to work up the wherewithal to climb out of bed and fetch himself some cereal. He wonders whether he could just start keeping the cereal box next to his bed, keep a mini fridge on the nightstand for his soy milk. 

He reads the email on his phone, then he opens his laptop and reads it again, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What the fuck,” he says out loud. He pushes his laptop aside and struggles out of bed so he can pace anxiously. There’s not a lot of space in his apartment for pacing, overcrowded as it is with bits of secondhand furniture and piles of books and art supplies, but he paces as best he can. “Fuck, fuck.”

He wishes he could call his mom. 

Steve starts to get dizzy after three turns in the tiny space not covered with comic sleeves, paint palettes or dirty dishes, and goes into the bathroom to sit and pee while he thinks about what the fuck he’s gonna do next.

First, he drags himself to the kitchen and makes coffee. There aren’t any clean mugs, so he fills his measuring jug instead, spooning in about a quarter cup of sugar. It turns out that he doesn’t have any milk anyway, so cereal is out. Steve retreats back to bed with his coffee abomination and his laptop and starts furiously cutting things off his website portfolio and adding others, then cutting those and putting the originals back. His phone keeps buzzing somewhere in the sheets, but he ignores it. 

Eventually he gets too tired to focus; his eyes are blurring every time he looks at the screen, and he reasons that a quick nap will help. 

Steve’s woken a couple of times by his phone buzzing again, but by the time he can draw his scattered thoughts together enough to move and pick up the phone, he finds that he’s been asleep for almost fourteen hours. Swearing, Steve crawls to the bathroom on his hands and knees, his phone balanced in one hand. He drinks some water while he sits on the toilet, too tired and zoned out to stand, then checks his phone. There are more than twenty texts from Bucky, becoming increasingly anxious as they go. 

**{i’m fine just busy}** he texts back  
**{you okay? miss you}**

The phone starts ringing seconds later, but Steve doesn’t have the mental capacity for a conversation right now. He rejects the call and texts Bucky again.

**{sorry, can’t talk, craazy busy w/ my portfolio}**  
**{talk tomorrow? I should sleep more}**

Bucky must have already been replying, because he gets a message as soon as he’s done typing. 

**{don’t wanna talk?}**  
**{okay no worries beautiful. take care of yourself}**  
**{call me if you need ANYTHING. i mean it, i’ll find a way.}**  
**{and make sure you eat!!}**

Steve leans over from the toilet to wash his hands, then crawls back to bed and falls straight to sleep.

\--

> Oh. My god. I just got an interview for a junior illustrator position in NYC. 
> 
> brb can’t breathe 
> 
> #personal #this is just #this is nuts?? #i didnt think they would even look at me #wtf do i do nowr #i gotta start my portfolio over fuck #how do interview srsly though why this brb freaking out gonna maybe jump off the roof  
> 

\--

“James,” Kate says, for maybe the millionth time in ten minutes. Bucky is starting to see the attraction between her and Clint. “I have to know. Did you and Clint make out? Or was it just, like, groping with no emotion, totally cold? He won’t tell me any details and I've got a bet with America.”

Bucky groans and sinks lower in his seat. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he mutters into his scarf. 

“Come on!” she whines. “You totally owe me for driving you here in the first place.”

“Fuck,” Bucky mutters, because she’s got him there. Clint was supposed to be bringing him to get his cast taken off, but he got called in to work at the last minute and Kate agreed to sub. Bucky won’t deny that that she’s a beautiful, kind, angelic woman, but he also does not feel like reliving his more embarrassing moments any more than he already has. They’ve already been waiting for twenty minutes, but the nurse has just been out to assure him that it won’t be much longer. With any luck, he can stall her for a while and then they’ll be interrupted before he has to tell her anything.”

“What did Steve say when you told him about it?”

“That’s between him and me.”

That was maybe the worst thing he could have said. Kate flings her magazine aside and turns to look at him. “Oh my god. Was he mad?”

“What do you think.”

Kate squints at him, trying to read him. “I don’t think he was mad. He’s like, crazy in love with you, you know?”

Bucky huffs and shrugs with one shoulder. “Sure, if you say so.”

“James, come on. You should see the way he looks at you. I saw it, and I would _kill_ to have someone look at me that way.”

“I don’t know, things have been weird between us.”

Kate looks horrified. “What? No! How? What happened?”

He rolls his eyes. “Aside from me almost-kinda cheating on him—just with Clint, obviously, but still—I don’t know. I guess he’s been kinda distant.”

“Yeah, I get it,” she says, patting his arm sympathetically. “Long distance is so hard. Skype sex just doesn’t really match up to the real thing, you know?”

Bucky laughs awkwardly. “Yeah. I mean, not that we’re—you know. We’re not doing that.”

“Oh. How come?”

“The aforementioned almost-kinda cheating, I guess? And the distantness, obviously. That’s the main issue.” Bucky sighs and pushes himself up in his seat, trying to get comfortable. He’s been crazy antsy for three days, knowing that his cast was coming off finally. Add to that the mess with Steve and he’s barely been able to keep still all week. “Well,” he adds, hesitantly. “We didn’t really have sex when he came to stay either. At my parents’ place, you know.”

Kate looks at him as if he’s just admitted to murdering puppies. “What, not at _all_?”

“Not really,” he mutters, wincing. A part of him feels mean and traitorous, as if he’s betraying Steve by talking about this, but he also needs to get it off his chest. “We fooled around, a little. It was cute, actually, he gave me a sponge bath, because of my leg—”

“Woah,” Kate says suddenly, holding up her hands. “I don’t need the details. So, what, that’s _it_? When’s the last time you guys hung out before that?”

Bucky frowns. “A few weeks? Uh, yeah, a couple of weeks. Maybe like a month?”

“Dude,” Kate says. She reaches out to take his hand. “ _Dude_.”

“God, it’s not a big deal!” Bucky says, yanking his hand back as he feels himself flush. “It’s just sex.”

Kate shakes her head fervently. “Oh no no, don’t you be a martyr. We need to get you laid. If loverboy is too tired for humping then we’ll find you someone to sub in. He’ll understand.”

Bucky sighs and folds his arms away from her, his features settling into a scowl. “Easy for you to say,” he mutters. “Not everyone works like that.”

“Barnes, James?” a nurse calls. 

“Right here,” Bucky says, grabbing for his crutch and pushing himself to his feet. 

Bucky feels kind of sick and confused, but he tries to push it down. He wishes Kate had never brought it up, or that he’d had the sense to put his foot down in the first place, but he can’t help that her words are now stuck in his head. He’s told himself before that it doesn’t matter if he and Steve have sex or not. He’s told _Steve_ it doesn’t matter, a hundred times over. But now all he can fucking think about is how badly he wants to get laid. 

The nurse helps him to take off his sweatpants and the sight of Steve’s faded drawings on his cast only make it worse. He misses Steve like the phantom ache of a missing limb, and he’d willingly take another broken leg if it would bring Steve to him, right now. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kate asks, touching his arm. She’s hovering a little, looking awkward. “You nervous? It doesn’t hurt or anything. I’ve had a cast like three times, you’ll be totally fine.”

Bucky shakes his head, but doesn’t speak. He grits his teeth and wills himself not to cry. He wishes he’d thought to take a picture of Steve’s drawings on the cast. His phone is in his bag on the other side of the room, so he can’t pick it up and call Steve. He wishes Clint was here to give him a hug. 

“Wait, can we wait a second?” Kate says, stepping between the nurse and Bucky. She sits on the edge of the exam table and puts her hands on his shoulders. “James? Hey, what’s up?”

Bucky bites his lip. He can’t say it. He can’t say it or he’s gonna start crying, and then everyone will think he’s a total fucking wimp. He bites his lip and it spills out anyway. “I miss him,” he moans, leaning forward and putting his arms around Kate. She hugs him back tightly. “I miss him so fucking much, I—I—what if he doesn’t—what if—”

“Hey now,” Kate says sternly, shushing him. “Why the hell are you getting all sappy, huh? You’ll see him real soon, _and_ you’ll be able to do all kinds of stupid kinky shit with your leg back in action, huh? I can get Clint to take notes for me.”

Her words make Bucky laugh, choking on phlegm. “Fuck,” he mutters, coughing. 

Kate laughs. “Gross.” She slaps him on the back before letting him go. “Now come on. I wanna see your gross disgusting leg and then we can call your tiny boyfriend and you can cry at him instead.”

Bucky nods, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Okay.”

\--

 **ohmysergeant**  
hey you  
there’d better be a good reason why i’m only finding out about this from tumblr

 **pictureofhealth**  
huh? whatd i do?

 **ohmysergeant**  
UM  
THE INTERVIEW?!?!!

 **pictureofhealth**  
oh! :D  
hey bucky! I got a job interview! : >

 **ohmysergeant**  
no shit :p  
that’s incredible gorgeous, i’m so proud of you

 **pictureofhealth**  
aw, thank you : >  
i guess it’s pretty cool  
gotta rework my portfolio though

 **ohmysergeant**  
but you only just did that  
and it’s really good!

 **pictureofhealth**  
well sure but it’s gotta be *perfect* or I don’t stand a chance

 **ohmysergeant**  
steve  
I think you're being a little hard on yrself

 **pictureofhealth**  
mmmmm  
nah that doesn’t sound like me 

**ohmysergeant**  
steeeeeeb  
D:

 **pictureofhealth**  
rofl Bucky bb find your chill  
I'm okay, honest

 **ohmysergeant**  
i know  
and i trust you to be honest with me, but hear me out  
you're not the best at recognizing when you need to take a step back

 **pictureofhealth**  
Uh huh  
so what's your advice, doc?

 **ohmysergeant**  
Aww Steve don't  
dont do that  
i just worry about you

 **pictureofhealth**  
well quit it

 **ohmysergeant**  
what? no!  
Steve that's bullsiht  
If I care then I care, you can't just make me stop  
what the hell

 **pictureofhealth**  
okay, okay  
You made your point, I'm sorry  
I just have a lot on my mind right now

 **ohmysergeant**  
k don't get mad but I've gotta ask  
Is this about me and Clint?

 **pictureofhealth**  
wtf  
You tell me Bucky, is it?  
you're the one who keeps bringing it up  
first there was that stuff with kate and now you think I'm making myself sick because you fooled around with him?

 **ohmysergeant**  
okay that's not remotely what I said

 **pictureofhealth**  
Sounds to me like you're looking for an excuse to go put your dick in something

 **ohmysergeant**  
what the actual fuck  
are you serious rn

 **pictureofhealth**  
be my fucking guest Bucky  
do whatever you want  
whoever  
I don't care  
I don't have the energy to care about it

_**ohmysergeant is offline** _

\--

The building itself isn’t too hard to find. The difficulty is in finding the courage to walk inside and head upstairs to the office. Steve checks his phone one last time before he goes in, and smiles when he finds a whole stream of messages from Bucky.

**{knock em dead, gorgeous}**  
**{but not literally}**  
**{clint and i are way too broke to bail u out}**  
**{no srsly thoug. you. aer. amazing.}**  
**{YOU ARE AMAZING}**  
**{i love you more than clint loves pizza}**  
**{(◕‿◕✿)}**

Steve laughs under his breath and types back with shaking fingers.

**{think i’m gonna pee myself. pray for me.}**  
**{lu2}**

The office when he reaches it is kind of shabby chic, and the reception desk is staffed by an appallingly beautiful guy wearing an oversized sweater, chunky glasses and a nose ring. Steve can’t decide if the appearance of a guy who looks one of his wet dreams should make him more or less nervous at this point. 

“Hello there, can I help you?” he asks Steve, smiling brightly.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers, I have an interview?” Steve hears the questioning tone in his voice and winces inwardly. _Come on, Rogers_ , he thinks, fervently wishing he hadn’t been so pigheaded about Bucky coming down early. What he could really do with right now is a hug. He shifts his portfolio to his other hand and tries to match the receptionist’s smile. 

“Take a seat, Steve,” the young man says kindly. “I’m Ryan. I’ll let Jessica know you’re here, she won’t keep you waiting loong. Would you like something to drink?”

Steve swallows and finds his throat dry. “Um. A glass of water, please. And—could I use the restroom?”

The young man grins at him. “Nervous? Don’t worry, she’s lovely.” Steve sits down and props his portfolio against a chair, while Ryan fetches him a glass of water and sets it down on the coffee table in front of him. “The restroom is right along the hall there,” he says, gesturing. “I can watch your portfolio for you if you want.”

“Thanks,” Steve mutters gratefully, grabbing the glass and jumping to his feet. He tries not to talk too fast to the bathroom,though he’s keen to get back in his seat before he’s called in for the interview. He drinks down half the glass once he’s safely sequestered inside, then he sets it on the counter so that he can splash some cold water on his wrists. His head is light and fuzzy; as he stands in front of the basin, a sudden heat ripples through him, feverish and sickening. Steve recognizes the symptoms and knows he needs to sit down as fast as possible, but he can’t seem to make his body co-operate. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter like a vise and he can’t make them let go. Dizziness washes over him, drowning him in the hot rush of blood through his head, and he closes his eyes to shut it out. 

Steve opens his eyes again, what feels like years later, to the sound of urgent voices, and hands touching him. Someone is shining a light in his eyes. He tries to ask what’s happening but his words come out slurred. He can hear that people are asking him questions from the tone of their voices, but the words don’t make any sense. Straining to understand them just makes his head hurt more. 

“My interview,” Steve says, or tries to say,but his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, and he can’t hear his own voice properly. “I left my portfolio,” he tries again. “Ryan has my portfolio, can you tell him thanks? He’s really cute.”

“I will, Steve,” someone says. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks—”

\--

The next time Steve comes to himself, he’s lying in bed. He stays for a moment in a contented haze, enjoying the uncharacteristic silence of his building, and the sensation of having nowhere to be. Then he remembers the interview.

Steve shoots upright in bed and yelps in surprise when he doesn’t get as far as he’d expected.

“Woah, woah, careful,” someone says, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on his chest. They push him back against the bed, and Steve realizes that he knows that voice. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

Steve swallows; his mouth and throat are very dry. “Sam?” he says in a raspy voice.

“The one and only.”

“Gotta go to my interview,” Steve slurs, trying to look around him for his glasses. He can’t quite seem to focus on anything right. “‘m gon’ be late—”

Sam presses on his chest again. “Nuh uh. Stay right there, sport. You know where you are?”

Steve rolls his head over to look at Sam. “Bed,” he says, annoyed. But then his eyes adjust a little and he frowns. “Uh, hospital?”

“Bingo. You remember what happened?”

Steve thinks. Everything feels hazy, like he’s remembering a dream, except that the memory solidifies instead of fading. “I went to the interview—” he murmurs, trailing off at the end with the slight raised intonation of a question. “Didn’t I?” He looks to Sam, who just watches him patiently. “Are my glasses here?”

Sam makes an affirmative noise. “Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them. You remember anything else?”

“Uh, there was--I talked to the receptionist, and then I had to use the bathroom.”

“You passed out,” Sam tells him gently, passing his frames over. “Hit your head on the way down, you idiot.”

“Oh, jeez,” Steve moans, lifting his heavy arms and covering his face with his hands. “Shit, they’ll _never_ hire me now.”

Sam punches him in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Sam, Jesus!”

“Why did you go to an interview if you were relapsing?” he asks sternly, waving a finger in Steve’s face.

Steve scowls. “I didn’t—”

Sam interrupts him. “Why didn’t you _call me_ if you were relapsing?”

“ _Sam_ —”

“Your pretty boyfriend is having kittens.”

Steve stares at him. “Bucky’s got kittens?”

“No, man,” Sam says, with an exasperated laugh. “I mean he’s shitting himself terrified because he thinks you’re dying.

Steve groans loudly. “Sa-am!”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with it. I told him your head’s made of wood but he still insisted on coming down here.”

“He’s _here_?” Steve says shrilly, and regrets it immediately. He drops back into the pillows with a wince. Sam glares at him until he’s convinced that Steve isn’t going anywhere.

“He’s on his way.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groans, putting his hands over his face. “Is he driving? He promised me he wouldn’t drive. Jesus, he only just got the cast off his leg.”

“I think he knows that, Rogers.”

Steve laughs helplessly, although he doesn’t much feel like laughing. Sam just watches him with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance, and reaches over to hold his hand when Steve’s laughter crumples into tears. 

“Hey now,” Sam says gently as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He touches Steve’s face with his free hand, wiping the tears off his cheek with his thumb. “You want a hug?”

Steve sniffs wetly and nods. Carefully, Sam hauls his shoulders off the bed and pulls him into a big bear hug. He rubs Steve’s back with slow movements when he starts crying harder, muttering nonsense in his ear to calm him down. Steve clings weakly to Sam’s shirt, lacking the energy to do anything but just sob.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Sam murmurs, stroking his back and his hair, rubbing circles between his shoulderblades. “It’s okay, let it out.”

“I’m—sorry,” Steve mutters. “I’m sorry, I tried, I’m sorry Sam—”

Sam just keeps holding him. “I know, buddy, it’s okay. Keep breathing for me, okay? Attaboy, you got this. Just let it go.”

Eventually Steve cries himself out and Sam finally lets him go. The right half of Sam’s t-shirt is mostly snot and tears by now, and Steve feels dried out, as if all his moisture is now on the outside of him and Sam instead of inside him. Sam offers him a box of tissues, which Steve makes liberal use of, then passes him a glass of water and glares at him until he drinks it all. 

Sam doesn’t seem to notice the state of his shirt. Then again, he’s probably still had worse from Steve. He takes the empty glass back from Steve, and checks his watch. “Hey, loverboy should be here soon.”

Steve smiles reluctantly. “Fuck. He’s such an idiot.”

“Yeah, duh. He’s in love.”

“Still stupid,” Steve murmurs. “Thanks, Sam.” He’s starting to drift, falling into slumber again even though he aches all over. He doesn’t want to sleep, but fighting it makes his head hurt, so he lets himself go.

\--

After the year he’s had, Bucky’s sick of hospitals. Still, as much as he’s sick of the shiny white corridors and the uncomfortable beds, and generally getting the shit kicked out of him by life, he’s stupidly grateful they exist. He’s grateful to the flat, sterile pillows under Steve’s stupid head; he’s grateful to the IV in Steve’s stick thin arm; he’s even grateful to the stupid uncomfortable bed that he’s not allowed to sit on, because Steve is actually _asleep_ , getting some _rest_ for a change. 

Steve stirs in his sleep while Bucky watches him, his brow creasing, maybe under the influence of a nightmare. 

Bucky doesn’t want to wake him, but he can’t hold himself back from touching Steve. It feels like it’s been forever, and his skin itches to touch. There’s a miserable tightness in his gut that has absolutely nothing to do with Steve being ill, but he’s trying not to think about it. He brushes the soft hair off Steve’s forehead, letting his touch linger around Steve’s jaw, loving him so much that it hurts to look at how pale and thin Steve’s let himself become. 

Steve’s mouth moves slightly, then he stretches and opens his eyes. 

“Hey,” Bucky says quietly, moving his hand down to Steve’s wrist, trying to opt for somewhere neutral. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Steve blinks his eyes a few times, adjusting to the light. He was wearing his glasses when Bucky came in; Bucky had taken them off him and put them on the nightstand so that Steve wouldn’t wake up uncomfortable. He grabs them now and passes them to Steve. 

“Buck,” Steve says quietly, his voice awkward and ashamed. “Thanks for coming.”

Bucky laughs, holding back the urge to cry again. “You know I was coming down tomorrow anyway, right? You didn’t need to go to all these lengths to get my attention.”

Steve chuckles, his voice scraping. Bucky grabs a glass of water from the chest of drawers by his bed and passes it over. Steve’s hand shakes a little but he manages to hold it alright. “Gotta keep you interested somehow,” he murmurs after a long gulp of water.

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, biting his lip. He takes the glass back from Steve. He’s staring, he knows he is, but he can’t stop. This trip might be the last time they see each other; he wants to drink it all in while he can. “God, I missed you,” he says suddenly, reaching for Steve’s hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve mutters, grabbing Bucky’s hand with both of his. “I missed you too, so much.”

“Yeah?” Bucky lifts Steve’s hands and kisses his knuckles. “Is that okay?”

Steve laughs self-consciously. “Why, is my breath terrible? Don’t wanna kiss me anymore?”

“Of course I do!” Bucky says quickly. He glances down at their fingers. “Only—I figured maybe you didn’t want me to. I mean, I haven’t heard from you all week, except—”

“Oh god,” Steve murmurs, and when Bucky glances up, Steve looks pale and frightened. “The fight, Bucky, I’m so sorry, I was such an asshole—”

Bucky shakes his head. God, he’s really gonna start crying, what is _up with him_ lately? “It’s okay, Steve,” he says, trying to sound calm, to keep his voice steady. “We can talk about it now, yeah? Or when you’re feeling better. Or if you want me to go, I can just—”

“Why would I want you to go?” Steve asks loudly, looking confused and a little angry. “You just got here.”

“I know,” Bucky says, looking away. He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve. “But if you don’t want me around anymore…”

Steve stares at him. “Are you—” He pauses and swallows. Takes a deep breath. “Is this you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Bucky grabs his hand again. “Steve, no, I’m—I thought maybe _you_ wanted to break up.” He sighs, shakes his head. “You know, there was that thing with Clint, and then I know you said it was all fine but you’ve barely said a word to me since that. And things have just been weird between us since you came to stay with me at my parents’ place.” Bucky gasps in a breath, staring down at their joined hands again. “I’m so sorry I made you go there, I shouldn’t have pushed you, and I promised I wouldn’t talk about this until you were feeling better, but if you don’t want me around then you should just say—”

Bucky stops abruptly when Steve sits up, leaning forward to take Bucky’s face between his hands so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “I love you,” Steve says, his voice thick and choked up like Bucky’s. “I’m not—fuck, I don’t wanna break up, Bucky, are you crazy? I want to be with you. I want to spend every spare minute with you, and stay up talking all night and then spend the whole day in bed.”

Bucky laughs wetly, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. “I was so worried,” he whispers. “You had me fucking terrified this time, Stevie.”

Steve leans closer, still holding Bucky’s face and neck gently between his cold hands. They press their foreheads together and Bucky shuts his eyes.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” Steve says softly, his breath a whisper against Bucky’s mouth. “I’m so sorry I made you worry.”

Bucky reaches up to hold the back of Steve’s neck, and kisses his lovely mouth very gently. “Don’t be sorry,” he mutters, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Let’s just forget about it. I’m here now, and you’re okay.”

Steve grins. “Yeah,” he says, rubbing the tips of their noses together. “I’m okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this? Love crying with me on [tumblr!](http://notallbees.tumblr.com/) You can also reblog the fic [right here](http://notallbees.tumblr.com/post/101604962190/the-fourth-wall-isnt-a-real-wall-at-all-58410#notes).
> 
> Bucky's fics are in the series post if you wanna check 'em out, there's still a couple to come :D Subscribe to the series if you don't want to miss them!


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